


No Tears For The Dead

by hanijima, xiujaemin



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:23:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4361276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanijima/pseuds/hanijima, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiujaemin/pseuds/xiujaemin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Do and the new rookie, Detective Kim, are called into a simple case, but mistakes are made and emotions are tangled into the web of events. The question is: will they let those mistakes haunt them until there’s nothing left to take?</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Tears For The Dead

**Author's Note:**

> **hani** : firstly, thank you gray for going on this wild ride with me for months~ we've endured a lot, and even though it's only like this, i hope we get another chance to finish more collabs and get better at writing!
> 
> thanks to the mods who are always kind and ready to help and who brought up this challenge! (sorry for all the lateness and trouble i've caused TT^TT) to onion-chan too for listening to me rant and for being a ruthless editor on the first part (get well soon!!!!!). to ali as well for looking over this as well. it would be a mess without you. 
> 
> really, thank you.
> 
>  **gray** : //tears// it is finally done, yiss. now I can go on anime and drama marathons as summer break comes to an end LOL  
> of course, this fic would not be possible if not for everyone who were by the sidelines to cheer us on and the people who themselves helped us in their own ways: lots of love to the mods for always encouraging us and being patient with us despite all the hassle. thanks to hani's onion-chan, who helped beta part one even though he was sick and had a lot of projects over his head. //throws many hearts to out to our beta, who agreed to beta two parts even though it was on a last-minute notice, special shout out to my friends who cheered on me while i was trying to juggle fic writing and uni //cries
> 
> p.s. this is out ugly baby. pls give it some love. <3

The phone in his hand rang loud and clear. The shrill cry in the middle of the night echoed a sound that seemed to come from the four corners of the shoe boxed room. An unregistered yet familiar number flashed on the screen.Sighing, he slid his thumb across the screen to unlock the phone.

“I have something for you to do. Don’t screw this up.” Without time for him to ask or voice out a complaint, the call ended. Static silence crackled in his ear. He was then sent two pictures, an address, and a meticulously planned schedule. A terse text followed the schedule, as if the call wasn’t enough. _Don’t mess this up._

 

There were less people in the cafe on Sundays, and Luhan relished in the relaxing quiet of the environment. He busied himself by wiping the newly-washed cups dry as Sunyoung sat on a chair a few feet behind him. She was busy tapping away on her phone, probably posting something on Instagram. She wasn’t supposed to be on her break yet, but Luhan felt obliged to give her a longer time to rest for today, since she’s always worked diligently in the shop. She was his only employee, and even if it was only the two of them working there, they didn’t have any hard times with the business at all. 

There was an old couple sitting right across the aisle to the left, who had their heads bent low and whispered in voices that were almost hushed. A girl was sitting at a table by the memo board, flipping through a hardbound book. She didn’t seem to have touched her coffee yet, too absorbed in a world wrought up in words of fictional basis.

There are times when Luhan envies customers like them and wants to just to sit down with his husband and share a cup of coffee while recounting the days that had passed and looking forward to the future that awaits the two of them. Probably with Sunyoung too, if she wasn’t opposed to Espresso. He forgot to ask.

But the peace and quiet didn’t last long.

A news flash was broadcasted on the television inside the shelf beside the counter. Luhan fumbled for the remote control to raise the volume as soon as he saw the image of a familiar woman being displayed. It covered almost half of the television screen along with a headline that he didn’t expect first thing on a usually peaceful Sunday morning. A grayscaled picture of the crime scene flashed for a minute with her face blurred out on the photo. 

Luhan blinked—once, twice, three times for good measure but the news on the television did not change. The image of the woman’s face never went away, and the memory of last night haunted him.

He dismissed the thought of anything bad possibly happening the previous night, having had told himself that those two people who had asked him to keep the coffee shop open just for a few minutes so that they could chat seemed to look like friends who hadn’t seen each other for a while and have a bit of catching up to do. But now that something like this happened, he wasn’t sure what to do.

He reached for his phone and dialed Minseok’s number. He was always the more rational one between the two of them; he would know what to do.

Six rings passed and Minseok still hasn’t picked up his phone.Luhan’s blood ran cold in his veins. _What if something bad has happened to Minseok?_ The thought made him feel unease seep into his bones, worry building up every second that it compelled him to leave hurriedly.

Sunyoung looked up from her phone just in time to see him leave.

When he arrived at their doorstep, Luhan pressed his forehead against the surface of the wooden door. Out of breath and quite fatigued, he closed his eyes. His grip on the doorknob tightened as he took in a number of calming breaths. After counting to three,he twisted the knob and pushed the door to their apartment open.

Instead of a warm hug and the usual sunny smile from Minseok, what greeted him was a living room thrown in disarray, and the sickening smell of something burning permeated his nostrils. It was like a cross between meat and metal which threw him off course. He felt his stomach clench as his instincts told him that something was clearly wrong.

He scanned the room for signs of a break-in.His worries heightened when he found no traces of such. The door was perfectly unscratched, the walls not broken down and the glasses of windows still intact. His breathing had become labored as his heart hammered fast against his ribcage. _Dammit Minseok, where are you? What exactly happened here?_

He searched the whole apartment for Minseok, his heart in his throat. He was frantic, bordering anxious even, likely because nothing was how he left it during the morning except for the possible entrance points. He dashed for their bedroom, it being the last place he hadn’t checked yet. What he laid his eyes upon entering was a form lying face down on the floor, familiar tufts of hair a mess. 

With trembling fingers, Luhan lifted Minseok up and cradled the body in his arms. There’s blood from a gash on Minseok’s forehead which seemed to have long since stopped flowing. Luhan’s grip around his husband tightened in a protective embrace, not knowing what else to do.

His heart almost stopped when he heard the squeaking of rubber shoes behind him, unfamiliar, heavy footsteps that slowly grew louder and louder with each passing second. He managed to get a glimpse of the man’s face that was veiled by a hoodie before he received a blow to the head and fell unconscious.

 

Jongin trailed after his superior up a flight of stairs. He was expecting to be greeted by high-tech stuff like what he’s seen in District A, but his hopes fell flat when he saw the lonely-looking door at the top. As they neared the door, Jongin noticed the faded plate attached to the door. The words were quite faded but he managed to make out the words “Archive Room”.. Without hesitation, Kyungsoo opened the door and walked right in, not sparing a glance at Jongin to check if the latter was following him in.

Kyungsoo stopped abruptly to greet a worn out-looking man in a neatly-pressed uniform. A small, rectangular golden plate was pinned on his shirt that read “Kim Junmyeon” which was printed in Hangeul. Jongin almost bumped into Kyungsoo, as he had immediately stopped in his tracks without warning.

The police officer looked up from going through some records and acknowledged Kyungsoo. “Detective, you’re here,” he gave Kyungsoo a small smile and stood up. Having realized that the detective had brought someone with him, he did a double take and looked skeptically from Kyungsoo to Jongin. His eyes settled a bit on Jongin’s face. The look on the officer’s face was that of someone seeing nothing more than a harmless pretty boy, but Jongin didn’t mind it much; he got that a lot back in the academy.

Jongin shifted his weight from one foot to another in discomfort under the wary-looking scrutiny Junmyeon gave him, sensing the heaviness that wore down the atmosphere clouded up with distrust and unease. He didn’t want to make a bad first impression, but he wasn’t sure if he could have made a good one anyway, knowing well that first meetings seem to always be supposedly reserved for occasions that didn’t revolve around someone’s death.

“Officer Kim, this is Kim Jongin,” Kyungsoo formally introduced him. “He just graduated from the academy, and HQ’s assigned him under me for a while.” To Jongin, it sounded as a code for, “He’s harmless. Probably. But I’m not sure yet.”

Junmyeon’s eyes lit up in recognition when he heard the name mentioned. “Ah, the famous Kim Jongin. I’ve heard a lot about you,” He said, and shook Jongin’s hand vigorously. Jongin could only hope that they were good things. “I am Officer Kim Junmyeon of this district’s police station.”

Junmyeon looked back at Kyungsoo after all formalities for first meetings were met. The polite look on his face was still there but the warmth he had greeted them with seemed to have waned a bit. Whatever the case was, Jongin believed it was a grim one. Kyungsoo didn’t fill him in when he was called up on the case, an unspoken promise of when we get there still lingering somewhere between _we got a new case and we’ll move to District D first thing in the morning._

Kyungsoo nodded. “We travelled back as fast as we could. I was worried that we were too late, as you were quite frantic during the call I received from you this morning.”

Junmyeon smiled a bit at that, albeit sadly. A look passed in his eyes, but it was gone before Jongin could even comprehend what it was. “Right. I’m sorry about bothering you with this case just after you’ve finished one, but you’re one of the detectives HQ recommended,” he sounded formal—almost businesslike, even, but from the look on his face,it was apparent that he was sincere in his apology. 

“Frankly, you’re the best one we have.” The officer stared at Kyungsoo with a kind look that reminded Jongin of a proud father who just witnessed his eldest son’s graduation from college.

They seemed very familiar with each other, Jongin mused.

“No matter,” Kyungsoo waved it off with a shake of his head. “A case is a case, and it’s my job.” He looked like he was dead serious. Jongin hadn’t been working with Kyungsoo for a long time, since it had only been a little over a month since the older man took him in under his wing. Even so, he could see that Kyungsoo was dedicated to his job more than anything else. His dedication was quite something, seeing as his entire life actually revolved around the job. He wasn’t sure if he should have felt awed at his superior’s professionalism and passion or pity for him for not having anything else but his work.

A strange thought came to Jongin’s mind. He wondered if Kyungsoo’s ever looked flustered—if there ever even was a time that that had happened. Or rather, if he even had the time to bother looking flustered, given his job.

“What’s it about?” Kyungsoo asked, and as if his entire mind was clockwork, the other men in the room could hear the gears of his mind turn. Junmyeon sighed.

The same look from before was visible in his eyes yet again, but just like the previous one, it disappeared quickly before it settled on his features. He turned to Jongin and back to Kyungsoo. “I can’t explain in full detail, because this isn’t part of my job. Detective Kim, on the other hand, will fill you in.”

 

 

“Mr. Kim? Kim Jongdae?” a female voice that came from the other line that sounded both familiar and foreign alerted Jongdae., He immediately sat up on the couch as if the person was able to see his current state of distress and he automatically thought that needed to get his act together and behave formally.

“Yes, uh, that’s me. What is it?” he had almost dismissed the call, the lack of sleep taking its toll on him. The moment his phone rang, he ran straight from the dining room as fast as he could. He was expecting the call to come from Liyin and was gravely disappointed when his girlfriend’s name wasn’t the one to appear on-screen. He had been preparing breakfast, the table loaded with eggs and bacon to start the day. He was fully prepared to greet Liyin with a smile when she came back. But his yearning to hear something from her was just more important that he had dropped trying to make additional servings of side-dishes.

When he had blinked at the phone’s screen, his finger hovered over the end call button since the number that had appeared was an unregistered one on his phone. But he became glad that he hadn’t done that, because the call seemed to be quite important.

“I’m calling from District D’s police station, this is Song Qian.” Song Qian was the girl whose desk was only inches away from Liyin’s; the girl who had kept teasing Jongdae and Liyin when they were only a new couple. “I have news about your fiancée, Liyin.” Despite the gentleness in her tone, there was urgency in her voice, and Jongdae swallowed down the bile that had risen up his throat from the tension.

Even when they fought before, Liyin had never left him without some sort of idea about her whereabouts. He had dismissed her lateness from the previous night as her working for overtime, just as he had been doing these past few months to prepare for their wedding. He stayed up all night waiting for her. He even ended up falling asleep on the couch until he woke up at three am, and she still wasn’t there.

He had resorted to calling the police station in panic then, only to find out that Liyin had taken the day off without telling him. They reassured him that he would get news from them the next day and that he should just probably take a rest first because everything was going to be fine and they got it all covered. Liyin had only probably gone inviting guests for their wedding personally, because that’s just so typical of her.

“Ah, I almost forgot that she had texted me a while ago that she was going to have some catching up to do with one of her friends. Sorry for bothering you!” he apologized, having a vague recollection of the last text message Liyin sent him. The cop responded with an “It’s okay, no problem”, telling him that it was his right to be paranoid over his loved ones before wishing him a good night’s sleep. Jongdae had believed them then, imagining the scenario of him waking up in the morning to find Liyin greeting him with the usual bright smile on her face.

But now, it seemed that the situation is quite different from last time.He pressed the phone closer to his ear, as if doing so would change a bad news into good news. “Qian-noona. Please, tell me. I need to know.”

He heard her take a deep breath as his hands started shaking.He was now unable to suppress the frustrations that had been pent-up inside him ever since last night. Please be alright was his silent plea. He hoped that somebody at least heard him. “Tell me, please, Did something happen to her?”

“Jongdae, I’m sorry, but Liyin is dead,” Qian said, her voice was quivering despite the measured breaths she took.

The news dropped on Jongdae’s head like a bomb that had always been there; something that loomed over him since the previous night, only waiting for the right moment to drop and explode. “They saw her body a few blocks down a coffee shop by the next district. She got mugged, Jongdae.” She sounded so small and fragile, and Jongdae imagined that she was on the verge of tears, but the news hadn’t quite sunk in his mind yet.

 

“Jongdae?Jongdae, are you still there? You need to go here at the police station as soon as possible. Are you listening Jongdae?” he heard what she had said, but the words just spun around in his mind, twisting and turning and forming something sinister. Even more ominous things at the pits brewed and ready to spit at him. “Jongdae?Jongdae, hello?”Qian was already panicking but Jongdae couldn’t hear it over the noise in his head. His hand went limp and he dropped the phone on the floor. It landed on top of the carpet with a silent thud, having its fall cushioned. But he didn’t care about that.

Jongdae felt his head spinning. “ _Liyin is dead,_ ” a voice whispered in his head. The words were repeated on an endless loop. The information echoed through the networks of his mind, bouncing off against the walls of his skull and reverberating through every nerve of his body.

He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, but he ended up grabbing his hair in frustration. _No, this couldn’t be it._ His heart hurt as he yearned for someone whose face he would never wake up to again.

 _“Alas, it’s the truth. She died and it’s all because of you. You let her die. You weren’t there to protect her when she needed you the most.”_ The voice continued.

 _No, that’s not true,_ Jongdae gritted his teeth. _Liyin isn’t dead, and it’s not my fault. I didn’t do anything._

 _“That’s the thing; you didn’t do anything,”_ the voice said as it laughed loudly. Jongdae could practically hear the sneer through its stinging words. _“You said you were always going to protect her but you broke your promise. And now, she’s dead because of you.”_

 _No_ ,Jongdae insisted, not because he was sure that she was alive and well, but because that’s what he wanted to believe in. _She wasn't dead, she couldn’t be._

He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands. “She couldn’t be.” he said out loud. His voice echoed in the empty living room and the sound came back to him, but this time, it sounded as if it came from another person. It sounded as if it was both accusing him and judging him.

If he knew that this was the type of news he would wake up to, he wouldn’t have been that eager to get out of bed and make breakfast for a fiancée he wouldn’t be able to marry anymore. Instead, he would’ve just slept and never woke up. That was the only way he could hide from his problems. At least when he was asleep, he wouldn’t have to suffer any pain.

He hoped that everything was just a nightmare, and that when he’d wake up the next day, everything would be back to the way it was, but part of him already knew, even if he himself didn’t want to believe it, that Liyin was already dead.

 

 

“Good afternoon.” Junmyeon said instantly as she stepped a foot into the room. “We have Detective Do with us today and his mentee—Detective Kim as well to formally take over the case.”

“Thank God,” the detective who had been reading from a compilation of papers bound together inside a white folder dropped what she was reading on top of the desk she was sitting on. “I was starting to have a headache from all of the paperwork I already had on queue even before they dropped this case on me. Good to have you back, Kyungsoo.”

“Detective Kim Hyoyeon,” Kyungsoo sounded as if he was hissing her name out but Jongin realized that he was actually introducing the detective to him. “This is Kim Jongin, take care of him, would you?”

“Seems like there are a lot of Kims floating around here. If Junmyeon here were a detective I’d have you people drop formalities and call me Hyoyeon instead, disregarding positions. Nice to meet you, Jongin.” She extended a hand for Jongin to shake, and in his hesitation, ended up reaching for it the same time she pulled back.

Hyoyeon grinned at him. “Don’t look so troubled, kid. Kyungsoo’s going to sharpen those edges of yours up. Unless he decides to chew you up and spit you right out.”

“I’m still in the room, Detective Kim. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t drop formalities with me.”

“Whatever you say, Kyung—Detective Do,” she rolled her eyes at him but still had a smile on her face “Here are the interview notes from this morning, all immaculately written for your reading pleasure and some trinkets from the scene.” Hyoyeon jumped off the table, flattening out her blazer and hair as she walked on. “I would like to excuse myself now. There’s an assault case that needs to be sorted out on my desk. If you need anything else, you know where to find me.” With a wink, she left them in the room meant for investigators stationed in District D.Jongin looked over the desk she was sitting on and saw the name Kim Hyoyeon embossed on a golden name plaque, pinning down a few pieces of paper from flying away.

“Off to the break room she is,” Junmyeon sighed, massaging his temples. “She’s going to pour out the sugar into a single cup, I swear.”

“Would it be feasible to get Kim Jongdae early in here tomorrow? I’d like to confirm a few things with him.” Kyungsoo flipped over the files, and in his curiosity, Jongin craned his neck to see. Surprisingly, however, Kyungsoo handed it over to him wordlessly, only looking at Junmyeon expectantly who answered a soft “sure” before leaving the two of them there.

Kyungsoo skirted around the maze of tables, to the farthest corner where a forlorn-looking table was save for the pen holder and name plaque. “Is this your old station?” Jongin asked.

“Yes. I’ve only been in B for about a year and a half if you’re wondering.” Jongin took careful strides toward him, eyes tracing the other nameplates on the desks. “They’ll get you a table here too, maybe around Wednesday next week. So don’t bring plenty of your things in just yet. And get a whiteboard or two in here tomorrow, Detective Choi’s taken the community one.”

“Things run differently here in D, doesn’t it?” Jongin meant no offense in that, and Kyungsoo seemed to not care anyway.

“I’d say it’s the caste system of HQ, but if anyone heard that I’d get rebuked. But then again, where is the lie.” There’s a small smile on Kyungsoo’s face, just a tug on the corners of his lips, and Jongin couldn’t help but smile as well. The older man pulled out the chair and took a seat, the wheels scratching the linoleum, elbows on the wooden table and his fingers laced together. “It’s fine, anyway. Are you done looking through those?”

Startled, Jongin opened the folder immediately, berating himself for getting distracted. And just as Hyoyeon said, it was neatly done. All the information about the victim, Zhang Liyin, was precisely presented with military precision. A one-by-one inch photo, her date of birth, and other background information glared up at Jongin like the neon signs he often saw whenever he came along during raids at the red light district. 

Police officer of District D, found dead earlier this morning in a dark alleyway.Suspected victim of forced robbery. Initial findings stated that she was shot, the bullet used was still being processed for a gun match. A few uncensored images of the crime scene had been attached to the folder’s left side by paper clips.

The first pictured showed her on her stomach, cashmere dress stained with blood, her hand outstretched in front of her as if reaching for something. She was off duty and therefore unarmed.The body has been sent in for autopsy. No results as of yet.

“This is something,” Jongin commented as he passed the folder back to Kyungsoo. “Who’s Kim Jongdae though?”

“Boyfriend, or fiancé. You missed the interview notes behind the pictures, kid.” Oh, Jongin breathed as he realized that he had committed a rookie mistake. He was taken aback by the gruesome pictures. Jongin’s seen a lot worse but he still ended up getting queasy. After all, even if he does get used to seeing dead bodies on a daily basis given his choice of occupation, the fact that someone died just didn’t sit well with him.

“Do a thorough background check on him tomorrow. Unfortunately, Detective Hyoyeon forgot to do that.” Jongin nodded slowly as he made mental note for later. “You could access the archives tomorrow while I have a word with Kim Jongdae. Junmyeo—I mean Officer Kim might be willing to take you around and show you where you could stick your nose in. Some people here are a bit…erratic.”

“Duly noted, sunbaenim.” He said with a polite nod and a smile.

“Hyung would suffice, kid.” Kyungsoo corrected him with an amused look on his face.“Sunbaenim would take too much energy to pronounce, and you’ll need all the energy for the case if we have any real intentions on getting this job closed early.”

It didn’t even take Jongin a heartbeat to agree, the response slowly becoming a habit. He blinked, unsure of whether he’s allowed to ask such questions when his mouth suddenly spoke before he could even contemplate much about it. “Do cases like these make you squeamish, hyung?” He asked unwittingly.

“Barely.”Kyungsoo said with a dismissive gesture of his hand.“It makes my blood boil. Now get some rest, we’ll officially start tomorrow.”

 

Jongin hauled in a one-by-one-meter whiteboard behind Kyungsoo’s desk. It was still too early for any of the detectives to be at the office, so Jongin took it upon himself to bring in his own table while his official one was still unavailable.

At exactly eight o'clock, a couple of detectives burst through the door in low grumbles, some holding cups of coffee, others, stacks of folders. He stood up and bowed at them one by one as they passed by him without a glance. Hyoyeon at least gave him a smile before burying her nose into stacks of folders and pictures.

“Good morning, hyung,” he said when he finally spotted Kyungsoo from amidst the commotion. “Have you slept well?”

“The question is, have you done that background check I asked?” Kyungsoo groaned at the mug in his hand like it injured him. It wasn’t even that hot. But before Jongin could even answer him, he’d already nodded as if he’s predicted that Jongin has indeed done what he’s asked him to do. He put down the cup on top of his table, steam rising from the unfinished drink from the cup. “Kim Jongdae would be arriving in a while, and Officer Kim should be on duty right now. Now go scurry along before Detective Lau takes notice of you.”

“Why? Is that a bad thing?” Jongin face showed curiosity instead of the confusion he’s actually feeling.“I’ve heard a lot of amazing stories about Detective Lau and all the cases he’d solved. Is there a problem with him?” Kyungsoo gave him a disinterested look, picking off lint from his sleeves. Jongin drew out a long silence, waiting for Kyungsoo to reply.

“Right.Of course.”Kyungsoo said instead, as if that would explain everything, resolutely no intention to speak further about the topic. Jongin didn’t need to be an exceptional mind reader to know this. So he went through the door and headed downstairs.

He plunged straight into the office of the police officers thinking that he might as well make himself useful by familiarizing himself with the place and not being a burden by getting lost in it.

It wasn’t really difficult to spot Junmyeon’s desk, given that it was the first table you’d see when you get out of the door if you look to the right. A lady officer was taking calls on the women’s desk, while the some other officers were busy poring through papers. The room wasn’t as loud as Jongin first made the police station to be. A few officers talking in hushed tones and the clacking sound of someone typing on the computer were the only sounds differentiating it from an uninhabited place.

True to Kyungsoo’s words, Junmyeon was already there, sitting on a chair in front of a desk in a corner with a stack of folders almost blocking his face from view. Despite the number of things that Jongin supposed he should be doing, he looked ultimately dazed with an unreadable expression in his eyes as he lightly tapped his pen on top of the desk in a rhythm-less beat. His mind must be wandering to one of his cases, Jongin thought.

Jongin took a few tentative steps towards him, and when Junmyeon saw him, he immediately snapped out of his reverie and stood up, the usual polite smile back on his face to greet him. “Good morning, Detective.”

“Good morning, Officer.” Jongin greeted back with a bow.“Kyungsoo hyung told me yesterday that you’d show me around. You’re not busy, are you?”

“Not really. But you know, you should learn things on your own, detective. This isn’t the academy anymore.” Junmyeon chuckled behind his hand.He found Jongin’s attempts to apologize and get out of the situation as fast as he could amusing—the look of a top student getting so flustered over such trivial things is indeed amusing in its own right. “I’ll do you this favor though. You seem like a nice kid.” He said as he beckoned Jongin to follow him while he made his way through the hall.

The building only had three floors, but there were too many rooms to remember, too many faces left unnamed in Jongin’s mind that before they even reached the second floor, he was already dizzy. Names and faces and landmarks in the surroundings to remember the areas by scrambled on and on in his head. Junmyeon only smiled at him and patted his back in encouragement as if to say, “You’ll get used to it, kid.”

The archive room was a lot bigger than Jongin thought it would be. Back in District B, the archive room occupied a whole floor, but despite that, it paled in comparison to the size of District D’s. The room was lit nicely from the front, since most of the bulbs three feet from the door were new. The back was quite dark for it was dimly lit. Junmyeon led him through mazes of bookshelves and cabinets to the end of the room, pointing out shelves and categories and the usual references they use by and by.

There was a small desk wedged at the back of the room, between two bookcases and a wooden stool Jongin would not dare to sit on for fear of it breaking under his weight. He told Junmyeon how he didn’t notice it when he was there yesterday, and Junmyeon laughed at him and assured him it was always there and that there was a socket under the table if he wanted to bring in a lamp or something. “It’s the only table you can use in this room. If you want to take confidential files out of this room, they must be taken one by one. That is, unless you are authorized by the chief investigator in District D to do otherwise.”

“Detective Lau?”He took a curious peek at the box covered in dust to his right, and he blew on the top, coughing out the particles that invaded his lungs. “Is there some form I have to fill up for that?” he asked, voice raspy from coughing.

“No, no need for that. Detective Lau believes in the art of convincing through verbal means. Still, I wouldn’t try it, if I were you.”

Erratic.Kyungsoo’s words echoed through his mind, and Jongin nodded his agreement, fingers tracing the fading red stamp that said CASE CLOSED 1977-1980.

Nothing was in alphabetical order,as the files were sorted by date. Junmyeon warned that he better not be asthmatic like Kyungsoo because a lot of dust has already accumulated throughout the years and no one really bothered to clean up the older files. Someone was actually assigned to maintain the archives. It was some new recruit named Officer Bae, but that was only on the weekdays. “On duty officers are to check the archives every few hours to make sure no one died inside from inhaling too much dust or set anything on fire while Officer Bae is off duty.” Junmyeon supplied a joking smile on his face, but the tone of his words seemed to imply that it might not have been completely a joke.

Sadly though, it’s a Saturday, and even though the whole place could probably use a general clean-up, Jongin wasn’t one to volunteer himself for unpaid slave work.

“Have you been to the crime scene yesterday?” Junmyeon stood between the bookcases, contemplating whether he should lean against it or stay perfectly put since it might topple over from old age. “They cleared it a few hours after investigation, but there were still a few stuff lying around that they only gathered around the evening.”

“No. I wasn’t instructed to go there,” Junmyeon hummed as a form of assent, but his eyes were shifting, telling him otherwise. “Well, thank you for the tour, officer.” He tried to inject stiffness into his voice, not sure why he’s willing Junmyeon to go away and leave him there.

“You’re welcome. See you around.” There was something about Junmyeon that seemed sincere and at the same time apprehensive. Liyin was one of their officers, and it’s understandable if Junmyeon and the rest of their team wanted justice for her. However, it irked Jongin to some extent at how there’s a not-so-subtle aggression toward him.

He cracked his knuckles and started to dig through the files. To his surprise, he saw a folder with the name of the victim’s boyfriend himself.

Jongin took out the file and laid it down on the desk. _Kim Jongdae, August 2012_ , the colored tab peeking out at the side read.

It was going to be a long day for him. Jongin sighed and went back to the file cabinet to start looking for more records that dated three years ago.

 

Jongin snapped out of a long train of thought when his phone rang and broke the silence in the archive room. Kyungsoo was asking if he was still alive, and if he’s eaten yet. With his muscles sore from being in the same position for hours, he stood up to report to his superior.

“Where the hell have you been?” was the first greeting he got from Kyungsoo when he descended the stairs. Kyungsoo was with Junmyeon again, and he noticed that the weary-looking officer from before didn’t look that tired anymore. “Are you okay?” Kyungsoo’s eyebrows knitted together in concern at Jongin’s facial expression, knowing that the younger wasn’t the type to make faces.

Jongin nodded, schooling his expression back to normal. “Archive room, hyung. My back hurts.”

“You can stretch it out upstairs while giving your report. If you’ll excuse us, officer, we’ll be going.” They both bowed to Junmyeon before they left, the officer doing the same.

Kyungsoo swiveled his chair to face Jongin as he stood before the elder’s table. “Reports?”

“I contacted some of her friends, and according to them, Liyin’s nothing much out of the ordinary.” Jongin said, running a finger through the underlined parts of his notes. He hadn’t inquired from her workmates yet, but he’ll be sure to ask later.

“Simple life, simple job, simple upbringing. Not much of a record of her being involved in a fight, other than when she pepper sprayed a con who tried to mug her two years back.”He rubbed his chin in thought. “I highly doubt that it would be the same guy, though. He’s still in prison, for a reasonably long time. What if she angered someone else? She was an officer here, after all.”

“Highly unlikely.”Kyungsoo shook his head in reply. “Desk officers don’t get much action. You said so yourself that she had a simple job, right?”

“Then could it have been just a mere coincidence? Or chance that she was just one of the victims of another mugging case. Mugging cases for one are wretchedly frequent these days.”

“Her fiancé doesn’t think so. He claims that ‘Liyin never goes out alone at night’ and that ‘she said she was meeting a friend’.” Kyungsoo quoted. “Foul play”, he said.

“Wait—Kim Jongdae spent time in prison, didn’t he?” Jongin asked, and he took out a folder hidden beneath a criminology book that he’s had ever since his first year in the academy. He opened to a page and skimmed through the words with his eyes, as if he’s been reading it the whole morning. “Ah, here it is,” he pointed at a particular line that Kyungsoo couldn’t read, since he was facing Jongin. “It says so here—Kim Jongdae, age twenty-three, a sweet overnight stay after committing a fatal act in self-defense.”

“Ah, I remember. He was that guy that bawling his eyes out when he got handcuffed here. Poor kid almost pissed his pants. He must’ve met Liyin here,” Hyoyeon said, all the way from her table.

She kept tapping her pen on the metallic paperweight she had on the table, casually joining in on the conversation. Once she finally stopped tapping and looked at them, she noticed Kyungsoo giving her a look. A look where Kyungsoo was tilting his head down and furrowing his eyebrows at her.

Hyoyeon grumbled under her breath, trying not to make eye contact with Kyungsoo again. “Liyin made great coffee, by the way.” She said definitively, as if to assure Kyungsoo she was done butting in. Only the three of them were in the room after Detective Choi left while muttering something about a sociopath on the loose. Jongin held back his laugh because he knew that if he let it slip, he’d be heavily reprimanded.

Kyungsoo only stopped his weird staring when Jongin asked if he needed more intel. “We need more evidence if we really want to appeal this as a murder case and not just a simple mugging” Kyungsoo replied as he massaged his temples with his thumb and index finger.

“About that,” Jongin paused, setting down his documents. “Officer Kim told me that they cleared the crime scene yesterday.”

“Yes. All possible evidences at the scene were sent for fingerprint scans and so on. Liyin’s body was sent to District D’s public hospital in the early afternoon…” He flicked his wrist to check the time. “Around two pm. The forensic team is working on it as we speak, or whenever their shift starts.”

Jongin heard rumors about District D’s Forensic team. All of the staff there were women but they were efficient and accurate. Some time ago, HQ tried to recruit some of them but ended up getting straight up rejected. A misreport on part of an intern however, lead to panic after releasing serious news about food poisoning with a certain produce sold at the local market in D that was supplied and manufactured by District A. District D’s image hadn’t been good since, and HQ put up a memo that all their reports and findings were to be submitted and to go through thorough validation before being released. That caused a lot of trouble to the department in District D. Especially to cases, often times leading up for the case to close later than customary.

“Will we be going there today?” Jongin said, still staring at his superior.

Kyungsoo finally spared him a glance.“I doubt they’ve found anything yet. It’s too early right now, perhaps after we interview Kim Jongdae.”He answered before going back to poring through the details of Liyin’s case.

“Oh yeah, some news came in from B earlier.” Hyoyeon said, and Jongin glanced at her even though Kyungsoo couldn’t seem like he cared. Despite that, Jongin thought he might still be listening in, though, given that he stopped flipping through the pages of the folder. Hyoyeon took this as a cue to continue. “They said an apartment went in flames and both owners died. They did a background check and found out that the people there also owned the coffee shop near the area where Liyin was killed. Reports said that their electric connection short-circuited, but they wanted you to know about it, since it might be of some help in your case. You guys wanna look into it?”

“Thank you for that information, Detective Kim. We’ll look into that after Kim Jongdae’s interrogation.” Kyungsoo said, still not looking up from the folder. “Take note of that, Jongin.” He ordered. Jongin was already on it, not actually needing to be told to know what his job was.

The phone rang and Hyoyeon pointed at Jongin to answer it having had justified it that she knows it wasn’t for her. Jongin picked the phone up gingerly and answered it in the most formal tone he was able to muster. His voice sounded squeaky in his own ears. Thankfully, it was the medical team.

“Hello, this is a representative from District D’s forensic team. Can I please talk to Detective Do Kyungsoo?” the female voice sounded familiar to Jongin, but he wasn’t sure where to place the memory, so he left it as it was. “I need to talk to him about the body.”

“This is Detective Kim Jongin, his mentee. You can talk to me regarding the case.” The voice from the other line made a small noise as if in recognition, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“Uh, yes, uhm…” sounds of paper shuffling came through the phone, she must be sorting through files while calling. “I guess it would be better to explain this personally, since we have a lot of findings to report on.”

“Understood. We’ll come over as soon as we can.” He said in reply, before putting down the phone. He was about to relay the message to Kyungsoo, but then there’s a sound coming from outside. It sounded like a huge commotion was happening, and Jongin got too distracted to tell him what the phone call was for.

Someone burst through the door, breaking the silent atmosphere in the room. Jongin looked over his shoulder in surprise. At first glance, Jongin couldn’t have thought it was the chief detective of District D, what with the funny looking tie he was wearing. Also the mismatched coat and slacks, it was like he was looking at a carnival performer.

The performer—actually, Detective Lau—, after he skirted through the mass of tables, proceeded to invade Kyungsoo’s personal space. “Hello, Kyungsoo!” He swung a hand over Kyungsoo’s shoulder and hugged him at that awkward angle. “How was your vacation?”

“Vacation?”Jongin muttered, perplexed.

“I got transferred to B, sir. _For a year and a half.”_

“How many times do I have to tell you, Kyungsoo? You should call me Henry!” Jongin looked at Kyungsoo then to the eccentric detective and then back again to Kyungsoo. Detective Lau wasn’t what he’d expected from the rumors to be. Considering they were rumors, he should have known that the all perfect attractive Henry Lau had his own flaws. “Oh, who’s this?”

Jongin jumped in surprise at being addressed, but before he could introduce himself, Kyungsoo took the pleasure in doing so. “This is Detective Kim Jongin. HQ assigned him to me.” _Under me_ should have been the right words, but Jongin didn’t have the heart to correct his mentor. “Kid, this is District D’s Chief Detective, Detective Henry Lau.”

“That’s so formal. Oh, this reminds me of that time you got assigned to that batty old detective!” He laughed.

“Uhm, sir. That detective was also your mentor. Not to mention, your father.”

“That doesn’t make him less batty.” Henry dismissed Kyungsoo’s argument with a wave of his hand and turned his attention to the newbie instead.“Hello, nice to meet you, Jongin! Welcome to District D, where everything is made from rainbows and sunshine.” Jongin was positive that that wasn’t how you introduce a sullen-looking district, but he wasn’t about to argue with the chief detective on his first day on the job.

The door opened again and Minho poked his head in. He was holding his phone in one hand and the other covering its lower half. “Henry, you’ve had HQ on hold for fifteen minutes. They’re chewing people downstairs for it. For fuck’s sake, answer the phone!”he shouted as he closed the door to leave.

“Well what can I do? Duty calls!”Henry waved at them with a flourish before he left but nobody seemed too keen to return it. He didn’t seem to be perturbed by this at all however, heading on without much regard.

Jongin snuck a peek at Kyungsoo, who only sighed in resignation. There was another call from downstairs, “We have Park Sunyoung downstairs saying she has something to add to the case. The uh…Case in District B, Detective Kim talked earlier about.” It’s the desk officer that Jongin remembered seeing first when he was looking for Junmyeon, but he couldn’t quite recall her name.

“Tell them to escort her to interrogation room one and we’ll be down in a sec.”

 

Park Sunyoung stood up when Kyungsoo and Jongin entered the room. They exchanged formalities and she introduced herself politely and sat down when Kyungsoo gestured her to.

Jongin watched as Sunyoung looked from Kyungsoo to him and then back again. If anything, she looked both amazed and nervous. Kyungsoo cleared his throat to call her attention, and she blinked as she tried to regain her focus. “Uhm, yes?”

“What’s your connection to the case?” He looked at her straight in the eye, and Jongin took note of how he doesn’t break eye contact at all, thinking that it’s probably unnerving Sunyoung a bit. Surprisingly, Sunyoung didn’t seem to be that much affected.

“I work—well, worked—“she corrected herself with a sad smile “at a coffee shop in District B. Both of my employers died in a fire in their apartment. But before that, one of my employers sort of… behaved strangely.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jongin asked her, but Kyungsoo seemed to have expected this and did not even bat an eyelash.

“Luhan-ssi…left in a hurry after seeing Liyin’s death reported on TV.” She continued.

“That was on the twelfth of December, right?” With a nod from Sunyoung, Kyungsoo continued.  
“What happened that morning?”

Sunyoung tilted her head, her eyebrows knitted together in deep thought. “I was working at the coffee shop, as per usual. There weren’t many people, so it was a pretty relaxed day. My boss was manning the counter that time, and since there aren’t any orders to be taken anyway, he let me take a break for a while.” Her expression turned sour as she pursed her lips as if remembering a bad memory.

“But then the report of Zhang Liyin’s death came on TV, and then he looked like he was calling someone with his phone. Nobody seemed to be answering the call though, since I didn’t hear him talking. A few moments later, he ran outside. Faster than when his husband would drop by the shop when he arrives from work, if I might say.”

“Anything suspicious aside from that?”

“Come to think of it, Luhan-ssi only acts that way when something is wrong. And then hours later he was found with Minseok-ssi inside their apartment, burned to the ground.” A look passed in her eyes then she gasped. “Oh my god, what if he saw something that night?”

“What do you mean?” Kyungsoo asked, heavily leaning both of his elbows on the table. He seemed distressed, and Jongin observed that there are more creases between his eyebrows now than usual.

“The night of December eleventh,” Sunyoung clarified. “The night when Liyin died.”

Kyungsoo spared a glance at Jongin, but he didn’t need to say anything; Jongin already had his notebook open with a pen hovering over a blank page. “Tell me more about what happened that night.”

“Well I worked until midnight, but my boss—Luhan-ssi—told me that I could go home and that he’ll close the café up for the night. And then when I was on my way out, there were two people who came in—a girl and a… I’m not sure if it was a guy she was with or not, but that person wore a jacket with the hood up.” She shook her head. “I thought they were a couple or maybe friends so I just went on and headed straight home. I wasn’t able to see her face clearly, so I’m not sure if it was her, but I have this feeling that it was.”

“Any identifying features? We could check it with the photos.” Jongin offered, flipping through the pages of his notebook where he kept a copy of Liyin’s photo.

Sunyoung gave it a moment’s thought, and surprisingly, Kyungsoo was being patient. “She was wearing a long dress—it was cream, I think?—and a red coat. I’m pretty sure she also had a handbag. I don’t remember what it looked like, but I’m certain it was black. She had long, straight hair that reached past her shoulders.”

Kyungsoo gave a look of surprise, a sound of assent coming from the back of his throat. He slid over a picture of Liyin, a 2x2 ID picture and a picture of her lying on the ground, lifeless.

Sunyoung gasped again. “Yes, that’s her.”

 

 

The sun had already set long ago but Kim Jongdae still hasn’t shown up at the department and Jongin was more than tired. Despite having drunk four bottles of energy drink in a row, his eyes were drooping as he tried to listen to Kyungsoo’s theories.

“If you’re going to sleep on me, you should have just said so. I’ve been wasting my breath on you, kid.” At that, Jongin perked up and apologized.

“It’s just that, I haven’t been able to sleep well last night. I needed to unpack my stuff at my new apartment.” Jongin bent his head low, hand over his growling stomach. “And I’m hungry.”

“Let’s take this to the break room then.”

Jongin trailed after Kyungsoo, watching his superior unload the files on the single table in the break room. Kyungsoo pulled out a bag of chips from the cupboard and offered it to Jongin. “It’s not healthy, but this should stop the rumbling for a while.”

“T-thanks,” Jongin cradled the chips in his arms and sat down opposite of Kyungsoo. “Could you please repeat your theories?”

“What are _your_ theories, kid? Have you come up with any?” Kyungsoo retorted, turning the question back to him.

He popped a piece into his mouth; the crunching sound filled the room. “I think Liyin was killed by whoever she was with that night. One of her friends, maybe. If that person was clean from guilt, where are they now? She must be friends with that person or they’re very close acquaintances that she would go out with them that late at night.”

“If the murderer was the one she was with, then all the more reason to kill off the coffee shop couple. But Sunyoung said that the only person who was left with the two that night was Luhan. Maybe they followed Luhan home afterwards and planned to kill him for silence?” he added.

“We don’t know the motive yet, though.” He shook his head, pieces of information muddled in his head. “Maybe Jongdae has an affair with another woman and that woman wants Liyin gone. Like a scorned mistress or something. I’ve seen a lot of those in dramas. Maybe she was expecting Jongdae to come to her after Liyin was out of the picture.” Kyungsoo’s eyebrows knitted together in reflex but Jongin was too preoccupied in his own thoughts and with his bag of chips to notice. 

He hadn’t expected Jongin to base a theory from dramas, but criminals do base their deeds on dramas sometimes. The opposite also holds true more often than not. It’s an arguable theory, but it wasn’t one that should be immediately ruled out, either. “Possibly.”He muttered under his breath.

Jongin was halfway done with the bag before he belatedly remembered to offer some to Kyungsoo. “No, thank you.”

“My head’s splitting,” Jongin grumbled. “We need more evidence.”

“Our perpetrator isn’t pretty clean with their job,” Kyungsoo took a sip from his mug. There’s a _keep calm and don’t rage_ written on his mug and it made Jongin smile. It suited him. “They’ve left crumbs here and there. We could get this solved faster if something useful from the forensic team shows up.”

Jongin’s eyes widened in realization. “Speaking of the forensic team… they called earlier that they had something to discuss today. I forgot to tell you.”

Kyungsoo glared at him from behind his mug. If the world could shake just because of Kyungsoo’s intense glare, Jongin would be under rubble at that very moment. “You’re cleaning this all up, kid. And report bright and early tomorrow because you’re heading to the morgue at seven. Just because you’re a rookie, doesn’t mean you’ll get excused all the time.”

“Shouldn’t we go there now?” Jongin asks, trying to make it up to Kyungsoo. “It’s only barely midnight.”

“Do you think the government wastes the taxes they can pocket on their employee’s overtime pay?” Kyungsoo was dead serious which made Jongin gulp, still not that quite used to his mentor’s passive-aggressive ways.

“No…” he answered, feeling smaller under Kyungsoo’s glare.

“Then you’ve got your answer. Tomorrow morning at seven.”

 

District D’s Forensic Team had a separate room that they use as an office aside from a sort of storage room where they keep records of the people that go through them. It wasn’t really hard to find the room—it had a plastic plate hanging outside its door embossed with “Forensic Team” in blue lettering. It was also situated right next to the morgue, where the forensic team seemed to still be running some tests, so Jongin would have been too oblivious not to notice.

He knocked thrice for measure, and a tall lady opened the door just barely, blinking at him. She didn’t seem hostile, but she looked pissed. “Can I help you?” she grumbled.

“I’m Kim Jongin, from the detective’s department. Sorry if I’m late. Detective Do and I kind of ran into some—uhm, problems.” Jongin explained with a huff, still trying to catch his breath. District D’s Forensic Team worked on the third floor, and he wouldn’t have been so winded out if the elevator worked properly.

She took a peek behind him. “He isn’t with you?”

“I sort of uhm—forgot to tell him to come here yesterday, so it’s just me today.”Jongin tried his best to show how apologetic he was, but the lady seemed to not notice at all and she gave him a judging look. “He’ll be at the police station in an hour though, so I’ll report the findings directly to him.

“Right,” she said with a click of her tongue, dissatisfaction evident. “Well, come in then, we haven’t got all day.” She left the door open for him to come in and stepped around to go to the nearest table to her left.

“The initial findings reported showed a RugerGP100 being used to shoot her. Quite an old model, if I might say. Was specifically designed for New York’s police department, too. The killer probably bought it out of the black market.” She said, taking out printed photos from a pile beside the computer screen on her desk.

“The killer didn’t look like someone to have a really good aim though—he probably aimed for her heart but ended up missing by a couple of inches.” She handed the photos to Jongin, and he started looking through them one by one. The last one in the pile was a naked photo of Liyin’s upper body, and Jongin tried not to look too perturbed by the blackened hole on her right breast.

“That or she might have attempted to avoid being shot, but failed to.” She looked back to her table and scoured through a pile of brown envelopes, checking the labels one by one before pulling one out and presenting it to Jongin. “The bullet punctured her right lung. She became deprived of oxygen and started bleeding heavily. She died minutes after being shot.”

“I think it wasn’t a mugging though,” a relatively shorter girl said, emerging from one of the desks at the far end of the room. “Kang Seulgi, by the way. Forensic team.” she added belatedly in introduction, and Jongin took her extended hand for a shake. “And this is my junior, Park Sooyoung. I think she simply forgot to introduce herself.”

The previous woman—Sooyoung, gave her a look that Jongin supposed was meant to shut her up, but Seulgi looked unfazed. “Anyway, have you ever thought it out with your superior? I mean, it’s too common of a crime to be a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“I don’t want to go raining on your parade unnie but all of the evidence aligns with that thought,” Sooyoung interrupted. “All of her valuables are gone—wallet, phone, earrings, even her ring.” She pointed to the finger where Liyin’s engagement ring should have been. “It’s clear as day, isn’t it?”

“You do have a point there, but I still think that my theory is possible.” Seulgi crossed her arms over her chest. “I mean, the crime was done cleanly, right? Too cleanly even, if I might say. Like, there weren’t any handprints or fingerprints left on her clothes apart from her own.”

“It’s winter, everyone’s wearing gloves. It wouldn’t appear suspicious at all.” Jongin suggested.

“Which is precisely why I don’t think that it was a simple mugging. The snow penetrated through her clothes already, didn’t it? The temperature could affect the autopsy and—“

“Seulgi unnie, please.” The younger one interrupted with a roll of her eyes. “You’ve been reading way too many detective novels again, haven’t you?”

“You wouldn’t understand, Sooyoung.” Seulgi said with a sigh, as if that could quite explain everything. “It’s called advanced reading. It’s quite helpful, you know. You can practice your deduction skills based on reading just one book or a manhwa and—“

The door opened with a click, and even though it wasn’t slammed open, the three of them stopped talking, attention suddenly taken by the person who opened the door.

Another woman that looked a bit familiar to Jongin entered, carrying a clipboard cradled in her arms. She gave them all a charming smile. She spared Jongin a glance. “Sorry for being late,” she said, before turning to look at the two other women. “I told you guys to call me when he comes in, didn’t I?” the both of them just shrugged looked and at different directions to not meet her gaze. The voice seemed even more familiar, and Jongin remembered it to belong to the person who called them to come over to the hospital.

“Seungwan?” he asked. The last time he’d seen her was during their high school graduation, and he could say that she had grown a lot thinner. She now has a fringe framing her face, and the hair that she used to leave past her shoulders is now tied into a ponytail. She looked… different; more confident, more sure of herself.

“Nice of you to remember me, Detective Kim,” she said, a small smile still on her lips. “You do know that the living is more important than the dead, right? And it wouldn’t probably hurt your career if you went to at least one of our class reunions or maybe return some calls from your old friends.”

“Sorry,” he said in apology, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s not that I didn’t want to go, I’m just mostly busy. And the other times, I keep forgetting.”

Seungwan covered her mouth with the clipboard she was holding. “Still the Kim Jongin I know at least,” she said, and there was amusement underneath her voice. “Enough of that. High school reunions could wait some time later.” She turned her attention back at the two girls. “You haven’t told him have you?”

“Told me what?” Jongin asked the same time the others shook their heads.

“Seulgi unnie was talking about her theory before you came in, so I didn’t have time to tell him all of the details.” Sooyoung said simply and Seulgi made a face, mouthing, “Well I’m sorry.”

“No wonder he looks unfazed.” Seungwan sighed. “Listen up, detective. I have some news for you,” she said in a grim voice, and Jongin tried to prepare himself for the worst. “Liyin-ssi was three weeks pregnant.”

 

 

In the interrogation room, Kyungsoo was questioning the victim’s fiancé. Jongin wasn’t there yet, and he felt like something was off. He was not used to being alone anymore. He hadn’t been working with Jongin for very long, but he missed the presence of a person sitting beside him, the sound of scribbling on paper as a tiny noise in the background.

Jongin had always been like that: he knew everything was being recorded in the tech room, but he always brought a notebook along with him. He had told Kyungsoo it would be easier like that when he pointed it out.

“I find it easier to go over written details than try to find the answers in a video recording. It’s easier to skip through some details and focus on the important ones.” Kyungsoo had thought it was ridiculous, but if that was what made work easier for him, then maybe there wasn’t much of a problem with that.

“As for that friend Liyin was with, did she say anything about whom she was going with or where she was going?” Kyungsoo leaned in closer, his elbows already on top of the table that separated him from Jongdae.

Jongdae looked iffy. “No. She just told me she was going out with a friend. She mentioned catching up or something.” Initially the case was dismissed as a lethal thievery incident seeing as the victim’s personal belongings were taken. However, her fiancé thought otherwise and pleaded for a thorough investigation of the case. Kyungsoo could tell that Jongdae was the type of person who would not put the case to rest until there was someone to blame the crime on to give justice for the death of his fiancé.

There was something suspicious with Jongdae’s answer, and Kyungsoo found his eyebrows furrowing together. “You didn’t ask her who she was with?”

Jongdae shook his head slowly. “I was busy getting ready for my shift at the convenience store so it kinda slipped my mind. Besides, I trusted her. I didn’t think I would have needed to ask her.”

 _Too busy to not even ask who she was going to be with?_ Kyungsoo shifted his weight to his left elbow lying on top of the table. Was it because they had too much trust in each other, or was there something else underlying that? “Night shift?”

“Yes. We walked together ‘til the bus stop. She went to District B, I suppose. That’s where the bus takes people. The convenience store I work at is nearer to District A than B, so after she got on I walked to the convenient store.”

Kyungsoo made a mental note to check the CCTV installed in the convenience store. “Where do you think she’d go to in B?” Kyungsoo laced his fingers together tighter when Jongdae took a long pause. He was nibbling on his bottom lip in thought before he finally answered. “Coffee shops. She really likes the coffee shops there.”

Kyungsoo nodded. “Any shop in particular?”

Jongdae looked down at his hands, looking unsure. “I don’t know,” he replied, sounding the part.

“Don’t you go on dates or something?” Kyungsoo asked before he could stop himself. The question was bordering too personal to ask, but he didn’t take it back. Sometimes, prying deeper could take the case somewhere.

Jongdae’s gaze flicked from Kyungsoo to his hand, gaze momentarily transfixed on the ring on his finger, but returned to Kyungsoo afterwards. “Not really.”

“Why not?” Kyungsoo leaned back on his chair and quickly went back to his position. He had a patient tone in his voice throughout the entire interview, but he wasn’t exactly calm internally.

Kyungsoo’s shoulders twitched when Jongdae hesitated. The other man’s fingers clenched and unclenched on top of the table. “My financial capabilities aren’t enough to take her out on dates.”

Kyungsoo broke out into a small smile, just a gentle tug at the corner of his lips. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thank you, that’s it for today. You can leave now.”

“That’s it?” Jongdae blurted out.

“Yes. We’ll be in touch, Mr. Kim.” He stood up, gesturing towards the door. “Don’t worry, we’ll call you back in if we get more leads.” He assured. Jongdae seemed cagey, eyes shifting uncomfortably, but he stood up anyway, letting Kyungsoo escort him through the only door out of the room.

Kyungsoo stopped himself from exhaling loudly, relieved that he’d at least started to get some idea of what could have happened even when there wasn’t exactly anything profound that could lead them somewhere near solving the case.

Someone was already by the door when Kyungsoo opened it, and he took an instinctive step back in surprise, almost bumping into Jongdae in the process. “Hyung, you’re done already?” He could tell that Jongdae was also surprised by Jongin’s sudden appearance.

Jongin was sweaty, bangs plastered to his forehead as if he had been running for a marathon, and he raked his fingers through it, waiting for Kyungsoo to reply.

“Yes,” he answered sternly. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I need to escort Mr. Kim outside.” Jongin opened his mouth, looking as if he was about to tell something, but then he moved out of their way and fell into step with them. He probably decided that it would be best if he said what he wanted to a little later, Kyungsoo had mused.

Kyungsoo glanced at him, only to see Jongin looking at him already. The younger male looked away on instinct, keeping his eyes trained on the floor as if it were more interesting. Kyungsoo smirked visibly, but then Jongdae abruptly stopped in his tracks, barring the doorway that lead from the hallway outside the interrogation room to the police station with his body.

Jongin almost bumped into him, not having had received any warning indication, and he looked over at Jongdae’s line of vision. There was a crying man hunched up in a chair by Jinki’s table, the said officer busy panicking about his report instead of actually writing it.

The two of them watched curiously as Jongdae walked over to the guy and reached out to touch his shoulder. “Chanyeol is that you?” He asked. The man looked up, and Jongdae’s face immediately lit with recognition. 

“Jongdae?” Came the whimpered response.

“What happened to you?”Jongdae pulled him into a tight hug before breaking away from it to inspect him all over. The worried frown he wore only grew in intensity as he took note of the dried blood on Chanyeol’s hands. “Oh god, why are your hands covered in blood? Where’s Baekhyun?”

“Baekhyun, Baekhyun’s dead. He… When… I got home,he was in the bathtub. He killed himself.” He was hiccupping in between crying and narrating what happened that it took Kyungsoo some time before he could process the guy’s words.

“What? That can’t be. We just saw each other last week.” Jongdae’s voice was higher than usual and laced with utter disbelief. First Liyin, and now Baekhyun.

Kyungsoo looked down at the records in Jongin’s notebook and sighed. Byun Baekhyun was a close friend of Jongdae’s. He was considering asking him a few questions regarding Liyin’s case, however seeing the sour turn of events, it seemed unlikely.

“He’s not that stupid to just kill himself without a reason, Chanyeol. Even if he had a reason… He wouldn’t dare. He wouldn’t.”

“That’s what I thought too. But he left a letter.” He pulled out a dry piece of paper from the back pocket of his jeans and smoothed it out before handing it over to Jongdae. His hands were quivering, but at least his tears had stopped.

“Wait,” said Kyungsoo. The two men turned to him with curiosity in their eyes. Kyungsoo marched towards them, picked up an elastic glove, put it on, and took the paper from their hands. “Exactly where did you get this? No, actually, why are you stupid? You’re sullying evidence.”

The man—Chanyeol seemed taken aback by the sudden intrusion and callous words from Kyungsoo. He looked at Jongdae in panic. “This is Detective Do. He’s handling Liyin’s case.” Jongdae looked uncomfortable.

“Liyin? What happened to her?” Chanyeol didn’t know what happened a few nights ago, and Jongdae took the liberty to tell him that she was killed as well. “Shot?”

“Yes, she was mugged and shot.” Kyungsoo intervened before Jongdae could respond. “Please explain how you were stupid enough to sully potential evidence. Better yet explain how and where you got this.”

“I didn’t intend to ruin anything. I saw it on the floor in front of the bathtub and picked it up.”

Kyungsoo let out a resigned sigh. He’d been sighing a lot lately. “A qualified officer will be asking you more questions, and it is best if you answer them truthfully.” He called Jinki over, giving instructions to have Chanyeol be profiled.

“Make it neat. And there is a high probability that you’ll be called in for further questions and updates. Please bear with us,” said Kyungsoo. His head was pounding for some reason, and he turned to Jongin. “Let’s go, kid.”

With a solid nod from Jinki and a hesitant one from Chanyeol and Jongdae, they rushed to his old car to get to the crime scene. The address was in a location that would be about a fifteen minute drive from the department with the traffic in D.

“Secure the letter in a Ziploc bag for now. I can’t drive the whole way there holding on to the evidence, kid.”

Kyungsoo pointed at the compartment where he kept Ziploc bags in case of emergencies. When Jongin opened it, he forgot that he filled them with film canisters from the previous case. His head ached further after remembering that case, freaks, he seethed to himself. Once the paper was secured, Kyungsoo threw the plastic gloves at Jongin and revved up the engine.

“But hyung, aren’t we assigned to a different case?” Jongin asked, filling in the silence of the car besides the loud honking from the other cars.

“This case might have something to do with Liyin’s death, and I’m getting the feeling that this will give us leads to who the actual suspect is.”

“But how?”

“Byun Baekhyun and Kim Jongdae are connected, right? And if what they were saying were right, Baekhyun wouldn’t just have committed suicide a few days after Liyin died. It’s too—”

“Coincidental?” Jongin supplied helpfully.

“Yeah.”Kyungsoo said with a small smile. “I guess you’re starting to get the gist of it.” He gave Jongin a sidelong glance and saw the younger man raking a hand through his hair. Jongin was blinking too fast and he had a hand on his knee like he was stopping himself from something. “What’s up?”

“Liyin was three weeks pregnant,” Jongin whispered. “That’s what the forensic team told me. I hope you’re not mad that I didn’t tell Jongdae earlier. I thought it would break him down if I told him.”

“That bastard,” Kyungsoo spat. His stupid brain was definitely right; sometimes Kyungsoo hated having strong intuition. “That fucking bastard.”

Jongin’s fist clenched, probably ready to get scolded. Well he wasn’t, because if Kyungsoo was right, then he could fish the truth out of Jongdae. “Are you angry at me for putting it off?”

“No, it’s perfect. It’s fine. I have a new theory,” his hold on the steering wheel got tighter by the minute until his knuckles turned white. “Listen up. Jongdae could have staged Liyin’s death, probably figured that marriage life wasn’t for him. He couldn’t afford it and all that. Something to do with pride. Just a theory though.”

“And now that you told me Liyin was pregnant during her death, Jongdae just dug his grave deeper by not informing us beforehand.”

Jongin was quiet, but Kyungsoo didn’t mind. He was pumped with a certain kind of rush, adrenaline, mixed with a little pity and anger. He breathed slowly and evenly through his nose, made a left at the second intersection, and waited for Jongin to add something.

“Jongdae felt obligated to marry her because he got her pregnant.” Jongin said slowly, Kyungsoo couldn’t have said it simpler.

 

They arrived at the scene in record time, and Jongin stopped before the yellow lines by the apartment door. “Don’t tell me you want to vomit already,” Kyungsoo joked. Jongin was apparently tensed but a few seconds later, he made a face of determination. Kyungsoo held back a laugh.

An officer handed them shoe covers and gloves. He walked in without preamble, immediately taking the precautions. There were several people inside the apartment, mostly officers who were in charge for clearing and securing of evidence. Kyungsoo looked around the rooms, greeting whoever looked his way.

“Where’s the head of the forensic team?”A nearby officer, apparently busy taking pictures of the scenes, turned to him. “Shouldn’t Doctor Kim be in here?”

“Ah, Doctor Kim no longer works at District D. She permanently moved to HQ a few months ago. Apparently she got promoted and got offered a teaching job at a medical university there.”

Kyungsoo pursed his lips into a thin line. So, Taeyeon finally got fished out of D. He remembered clearly how she told him that she was adamant about not leaving and continuing the legacy her predecessor started. That was well over a year ago, and people’s minds change after quite some time. Kyungsoo could understand; she was almost forty and probably wilting away in the confines of one of District D’s public hospital and slicing open corpses wasn’t what she wanted for herself.

“Who’s the new team leader?”

“A young doctor, freshly graduated. Dr. Song. You just missed her, Detective Do. She’s already at the hospital preparing for the arrival of Mr. Byun’s body. Will you be in charge of this case too?”

“Quite possibly,” Kyungsoo nodded. A young inexperienced head of the forensic team was laughable. HQ must be laughing at the district’s face, taking away all their talented individuals and hoarding them all in District A. It sickened Kyungsoo how they tried to monopolize the forensic results just because of a stupid incident that happened decades ago. Pride, stupidity, and maybe corruption were their motives. Either way, it all boiled down to one thing. An inconvenience.

Jongin’s head peeked out of a door down the narrow hallway, and he beckoned Kyungsoo over with a wave of his hand. He strode over, and Jongin opened the door for him. The smell of wet spoiled meat slapped him across the face, and instinctively, he took a step back.

Baekhyun had, as it turned out, really did kill himself. Or so, that was what the preliminary investigation of the crime scene dictated. He sat naked inside a bathtub filled with water and blood. Kyungsoo leaned down and inspected the slashes on his wrists. Some were shallow and looked like they’ve been there for a few days. There were, however, two parallel cuts that started from his pulse point going down shy a few centimeters from his palm. It could have been how he ended his life.

“These aren’t deep enough,” Kyungsoo muttered. He gently placed the limp arm back to the way it was before. “It doesn’t look like he died from blood loss. The blood in the tub lost its deep red color; the water must’ve diluted it. Also, the blood on his wrists is dry. I’m no medical expert, but a few of the cuts have formed into scabs already. He’s been here for quite a while.”

“How would you know it’s not enough to kill him?”

Kyungsoo didn’t supply him with an answer; instead he pushed past Jongin and crouched down the bin by the toilet. There were pieces of tissue and trash in it, but what caught his attention was a bottle behind the toilet.

Half of the label was ripped off but Kyungsoo could make out the words _do not overdose_ and _take as prescribed_ on the bottom part. “Pills, most likely.” He showed them to Jongin and the younger one opened the medicine cabinet with the mirror as its cover.

“There are a few more bottles of it back here. It’s in the same state; the labels have been ripped off.”

“Are those empty too?”

Jongin shook his head. “No.”

“Send them to Dr. Song and tell her to prioritize it.” Kyungsoo turned around, his hands were sweating under the medical gloves and he badly wanted to scratch them off. He looked at Baekhyun with his head resting on the wall. “Have you seen the pen?”

“What pen?”

“Baekhyun wrote Chanyeol a letter, didn’t he? Where’s the pen he used to write it with?” They circled the whole bathroom, looked behind shower curtains, and scanned the medicine cabinet twice. There was no sign of a pen, or a pencil, or a marker.

Kyungsoo _tsked_ and looked at Jongin. “Drain the tub.”

“Are you sure—“

Kyungsoo cut him off, felt a bit chilly inside the closed bathroom with Jongin. “Yes. The forensic team was already here, and if they were smart, the should’ve taken some water as evidence.”

Reluctantly, Jongin rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt until it was over his biceps. Kyungsoo could see more of Jongin’s beautiful sun-kissed skin and he coughed, shifting his eyes away when the younger one reached in and pulled the plug of the bathtub.

“The water was cold. A little over room temperature.” He wiped the fluids off of his arm with a tissue Kyungsoo handed him, and they waited. The water went down the drain rather slowly, and slowly, Baekhyun’s nakedness was laid bare. The parts that were submerged in water were wrinkled, as expected, however there was no sign of any writing material.

Jongin whined. “That was a waste.”

Kyungsoo merely looked at him and back at Baekhyun. Upon closer inspection, it seemed like Baekhyun was staring at something, and tracing his line of sight, Kyungsoo looked up to see a barely closed window.

“Did you open that window when you got in here?” He pointed to it, and Jongin shook his head again. “Hypothermia is also a possibility. If he died during the night, the possibility rises.”

“No wonder it feels cold in here.”

“It’s cold everywhere. It’s still winter,” Kyungsoo countered. He took off his gloves and made Jongin dispose of them.

Kyungsoo hated people who committed crimes. He especially hated it when people killed themselves, when people waste their life. People only have one shot at life. And because Kyungsoo didn’t believe in reincarnation and all that pizzazz, he thought it was a stupid thing to do. Incredibly stupid and a damned inconvenient thing to leave to the living.

But a job was a job. He had to look this over, get the facts straight and accurate, and put the criminal behind bars. That’s why he pursued this kind of job. He had to look at corpses, had to decipher what every little detail meant. _Had to be fine_ with it for the benefit of the citizens and for the people who drove him to work. _His parents._

 

Kyungsoo was distressed and screamed into his pillow. The smell of Baekhyun’s corpse wouldn’t leave him. The mental image of the dead look in Baekhyun’s eyes wouldn’t stop flashing in his mind even when he was already one breath away from sleep.

 

 

Jongin expected for the worst when Jongdae arrived at the public hospital, looking lost and disheveled. Of course Jongdae wouldn’t take it very well, given that he came rushing there right after Jongin had called him.

Jongdae looked as if he was about to break down right in front of them even when Seungwan tried explaining the situation to him calmly. He could have gotten arrested for causing a ruckus, and Jongin was glad that they were inside the forensic team’s office instead of the hallway outside. 

“Where is she?” he cried. Thankfully, Jongin was able to grab at Jongdae before he headed for the doors that lead straight into the morgue. “I want to see her, goddammit! Let me see her!”

“Sir, if you please…” Seulgi started, but she backed away when Jongdae turned to face her with maddened eyes, looking smaller by the second.

“Sir, “ Sooyoung stepped in, concerned. She pointed to the door on the far end of the room, and Jongdae looked at it for a long while before he stalked towards it.

He crumpled on the floor halfway there, his knees giving away. “We were about to start a family… We were about to become parents… And now my only chance at happiness is ruined.”

“You have to move forward, sir. If you don’t, you won’t get to see her.“ She said, gesturing to the door.

Jongin looked at him, but he knew he couldn’t do anything aside from attempting to comfort the man and doing his best to assist Kyungsoo in solving the case. Suddenly, their conversation in the car played back in his mind, and he stared down at Jongdae. He wouldn’t, would he?

At this, Seungwan, who had just been quiet the entire time, stepped forward. She straightened out her slacks and bent down in front of him. “Sir, I know you’re suffering right now but… you have to accept that she’s gone, and you’re still here. Don’t think of it as her leaving you. Think of it as a way of being able to let her memory live on. Live for her.”

“Don’t let anyone forget Zhang Liyin. She’s going to get the justice she deserves. So please stand up, and let’s continue into the morgue?”

It took a while before Jongdae was able to collect himself and follow Seungwan into the next room.

When Jongdae finally got there, he was breathing erratically. Jongin expected things to at least go smoothly. But seeing Jongdae’s dark circles under his teary eyes, it seemed unlikely. He nodded at Seungwan and then at Jongin.

Jongdae peeled the blanket off of Liyin’s face. There was pain etched all over his face and it quickly mellowed down into a sad smile, the corner of his eyes collected with tears. He ran a hand over her face, caressing it. _“My angel,”_ he murmured. _“Liyin.”_

Jongin stood at the foot of the table awkwardly, hands on his sides. It was his job to accompany Jongdae, given that he offered the help himself, but he felt as if he was intruding in on something intimate. He tried to not look at Jongdae, not wanting to ruin the moment, but still, he felt sad for the two of them—two souls that would never get to see each other’s smiles ever again. It was simply heartbreaking.

But then Kyungsoo’s latest theory rang in his mind. They hadn’t gotten a chance to have an in-depth review on the investigation of Baekhyun’s suicide, because the previous day had been a well-deserved day off for some of them.

There was a sniffling sound from beside him, and he glanced at Seungwan, only to see her furiously rubbing at her face. “Excuse me,” she said in a quiet voice, and went out the door as noiselessly as possible. With the way things have been going, he couldn’t exactly blame her.

Jongdae stepped away from the table after he had pulled the blanket back up, his look still lingering on Liyin’s limp form.

He turned to Jongin. “Thank you, Detective Kim.” There was sincere gratefulness in his eyes and also relief, and Jongin was glad that he could at least help Jongdae say his last goodbyes.

But of course, Jongin shouldn’t have underestimated how quickly things could turn around in a split second.

As soon as they got out of the door, Jongdae was knocked to the ground by a fast punch. Jongin was quick to stop the man from landing a second blow, muscle memory serving him good use when he got the man’s arms behind his back.

“You asshole!” he yelled, struggling to get out of Jongin’s grip. “What did you do to my sister?”

“Sir, please calm down! This is a hospital.” Seulgi ran to them, putting herself in between Jongdae and the guy. Jongdae got up, and there was a bruise already blossoming on his cheek. He looked pissed, but the look his face morphed into surprise when he saw the guy’s face.

“Yixing? I thought you were out of the country!”

“My sister was killed, of course I’d come back as soon as I can! How could you just leave her like that?” He said in a seething tone, but thankfully, he stopped struggling. Jongin still refused to release him. He might jump at Jongdae at any given time.

“How—how did you find out that she was pregnant?” Jongdae looked nothing short of horrified.

To Jongin, the guy looked like a nice person. Probably someone who wouldn’t dare hurt a fly. But considering that he punched Jongdae even before anyone could remotely react might have meant that looks could really be deceiving. “She told me you were getting married. Of course I was suspicious.”

Seulgi turned to Jongdae, looking genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry. I kind of… confirmed it.”

Jongin looked from the guy to Jongdae, and back, piecing everything together. “You’re Zhang Yixing?” he asked, wide-eyed, and something in the guy’s expression softened. He might not actually be that bad, after all. “Yes. I’m Zhang Liyin’s younger brother.”

Jongin freed him from the hold, and he scratched the back of his head. “I’m sorry about this, but I need you to come with me to the police station for questioning.”

 

Kyungsoo, as usual, welcomed the presence of more witnesses, saying that it would help them narrow down the possible suspects. Without a moment’s hesitation, he already had the interrogation room prepared, and within minutes, they had already proceeded to talk about the case. “What was the last conversation you had with Liyin?”

Zhang Yixing wasn’t the first person whose interrogation Jongin participated in, so coming into the interrogation room and sitting down next to Kyungsoo felt like part of a routine to him. He already had his notebook out, pen clipped in between deft fingers, prepared to take down anything of importance to the case.

Yixing didn’t seem to have any trouble recalling the memory, answering straight away. “She called me before, asking me if I was okay with her getting married to Jongdae. Of course I said no, but it wouldn’t matter whatever I said anyway. Even if the highest being on earth told her not to, I’m pretty sure she’d still marry him.”

Jongin took note of this before proceeding to ask his own question. “You’re against your sister’s relationship with Kim Jongdae?”

“He has a criminal record. Of course I’d be concerned for my sister,” He said this with his voice raising a few notes higher, as if it were some common fact. “But she said she loved him so much, so nothing I could say would do anything.”

Jongin nodded. _Of course._ He was probably right about his initial assessment of Yixing. Maybe he only got violent because of what had happened to his sister. “That was in the past, though. And it was in self-defense,” he pointed out.

“Self-defense or not, he still killed someone,” Yixing crossed his arms defiantly. “I told her that she’d only get into trouble if she keeps associating herself with that guy, and now look where it got her.”

Jongin looked at Kyungsoo, and the other man glanced at him as well, but it only lasted for a moment.

“Do you know anyone who might possibly have caused Zhang Liyin’s death? Kim Jongdae suspects that she had been murdered.”

“None,” Yixing shook his head without a moment’s thought. “My sister never had any enemies back home. Even when I was still studying here and she was just a new officer, I’ve never heard of her not getting along with anyone.”

“Not even Kim Jongdae?” Yixing was surprised with Jongin’s question, and he could tell Kyungsoo was, too. It was only typical of him to ask, he thought, given that Yixing seemed to have some sort of personal vendetta against Jongdae.

“I’m not sure.” Yixing answered with a frown. “I don’t… actually talk to Jongdae that much to be a great judge of his character. But… It could be possible. Or maybe he had some sort of enemy from before and my sister got killed because of that? Like I said, he has a record,” he pointed out.

Kyungsoo nodded, not pushing the topic any further. It was going nowhere with Yixing’s obviously biased accusations and Jongin’s question had been highly subjective, anyway. “Where were you then, on the eve of December eleven to early morning of the twelfth?”

“I was in my studio in Beijing. My company thought it would be nice if I produced a ballad song for the winter season. I had to stay up late until I finished the song.” Yixing was a music producer of a company that’s starting to make it big in China, according to their records. It was also the reason why they couldn’t get ahold of him for questioning.

“And when were you able to finish?”

“Around ten in the morning. I’ve been cooped up in the studio until then.”

“And how did you find out about Liyin’s death?”

“The police department called me in the afternoon. I wasn’t able to get here quickly because my company had to make sure that no news of this reaches the media.” A sad smile played on his lips. ”I wanted my sister to have a proper burial, not a blown-up cover story on the front page of a newspaper of how I’m grieving for her death.”

“I think that’s it,” Kyungsoo said, clapping his hands together once, lightly. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Zhang. We will call you if we have any updates.”

“That’s it?” Yixing asked, his mouth partly opened in surprise. “I want to help. Like, really help with the case. Just tell me what I can do. I want to make sure my sister’s given the justice that she deserves.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but this is an open case. We would rather have you cooperating with us than meddling with the investigation.” Kyungsoo said.

“Meddling?” he looked offended, and his face turned a shade of red in anger. “My sister is dead, thanks to that asshole, and you’re preventing me from helping?”

Kyungsoo looked the least bit perturbed. “Yapping angrily and emotionally lashing out is nowhere near helpful in our vocabulary. Please remove yourself from the premises and come back when the urgent need to do so arises or if you are called in for further questioning. Thank you.” Kyungsoo said mechanically, and though his words were nowhere near professional it was calm and collected enough that if one were to pass by, it would seem like he was commenting on the weather. Jongin fought the urge to laugh.

Yixing glowered at them. “You better get the perpetrator and put him behind bars.”

“Patience is a virtue, sir. Us underpaid workers are trying our best with our low budget equipment. Richer districts are hogging up tech and quality employees. If you want, you could file an appeal there and let them look it over, for some… months. Half a year would be the earliest, at least.”

With a last angry shrug from Yixing, he got up and walked out the door, not bothering to close it. Kyungsoo’s eyes followed his retreating figure as it disappeared into the mass of people in the police department.

Jongin laughed. “You’re Do Kyungsoo. If you wanted to use tech from the other districts, you would and you could. With little to no question.”

“Shut up.” He said, rolling his eyes. There was a hint of a smile on his face, and Jongin mentally debated whether to point it out or not. “You punk.”

 

“We need to have Jongdae under surveillance,” were the first words that Kyungsoo said to Junmyeon the moment they got out of the interrogation room. The easy banter in the room had dissipated, and Jongin found himself frowning too. “Officer Irene would do. She’s good at going undercover, right?”

“Yes,” Junmyeon answered, blinking rapidly in confusion. It’s rare for Kyungsoo to ask him for favors, especially nowadays. “But why?”

“He might have something to do with this case.”

“What do you mean?” Jongin interrupted. Kyungsoo glanced from Junmyeon to his mentee, both men giving him looks as if saying that his idea was preposterous.

“I’m sensing he’s not telling us something. I can be wrong of course, but—” Kyungsoo rubbed at his temples, the case giving him more stress than he’s letting on. It’s really hard, given that they don’t have a proper list of suspects, but things may just be starting to come to light now. “Either way, after Yixing voiced out his sentiments, we can’t take the risk.”

Jongin wasn’t able to school his expression quickly, so he decided to spit it out his concerns. “You really think that Jongdae could have been the one to kill Liyin?”

Kyungsoo gave him a sad smile. Something small ached in Jongin’s chest when he saw it. “Sometimes, the person you’d take a bullet for is actually the one behind the trigger.”

 

“Hey, hyung.”Jongin looked over his shoulder, where his superior sat close behind by his own desk. Kyungsoo stopped flipping through the case reports and looked at Jongin with his full attention. Jongin suddenly felt conscious, but at least he didn’t end up stuttering. “Are you up for some ramyeon after this?”

“It depends on whether you’re paying for my meals or not.” He replied, but he’s already closed the folder that he was reading a moment ago.

“But you’re older than me—” Jongin started to protest, and Kyungsoo raised a finger to stop his train of thought.

“You asked. It’s unlikely, still, for me to get off early. HQ’s expecting me to file a written report on your progress on top of these fucking files Junmyeon dropped on me.” Jongin was disappointed when Kyungsoo suddenly turned his attention to the laptop idly sitting on top of his table. He had thought that Kyungsoo was only teasing him and was actually going to agree with his plan, but maybe he thought wrong.

“You know, I could buy you dinner.” He offered as an alternative.

Kyungsoo looked at him like he was suggesting something utterly ridiculous. “Flattery takes you nowhere. Bribing gets you arrested.”

“Me? Bribing an official? I would never, hyung. Scout’s honor.” He did a mock salute, earning a sympathetic laugh from Kyungsoo.

“Don’t you have friends, Jongin? You should hang out with them more instead of tailing me like a lost puppy.”

“I have friends, but I’m not in the mood to go party with them at a stupid noraebang house and get drunk ‘til sunrise. Just so you know, I’ve never been good with nursing a hangover.” Kyungsoo glanced up at Jongin while trying to balance going through the mountain of notes he was sorting through, and typing out a report on his laptop. Jongin looked like a puppy with his mop of a hair; all that’s missing was a pair of ears and a wagging tail. He’d make a good poodle, not that Kyungsoo was fond of dogs or animals in general. They did have a tendency to snarl at him, and he got that enough on a daily basis.

“Such a sad life you live then. Go home already, kid.”

Jongin made no move to do so, only turning around on his swivel chair to face Kyungsoo. “How about you? Do you go out with your friends to restaurants or something? You always did strike me as the kind of guy to enjoy a bottle of bourbon and just stare at your friends while they do stupid shit.”

“We had a celebratory drink after our last case, and you didn’t actually see me order bourbon or the like. Cheap beer is enough to keep my system running, and you know… It’s cheap. As another argument to your statement, I don’t really have friends. Just people I know, assholes I live with.” Kyungsoo grinned. Jongin thinks it wasn’t entirely true, but what part of it was the lie? Jongin groaned at him, his pretty boy features contorting into a grimace.

“Not even Junmyeon-ssi? Well, that’s some level of assholery you’re on.” Jongin himself was surprised with his own words, the sentence being the type to have the tendency to be taken as an offensive remark rather than a joke. But Kyungsoo seemed unperturbed of this, simply taking Jongin’s joke in stride.

“Junmyeon is too nice to consider a friend. Too stiff and polite for my ‘level of assholery’, whatever that means.” Kyungsoo said this in a dismissive tone, but something in his gut churned unpleasantly. Must be the effect of drinking coffee on an empty stomach, he mused. But something flashed in his mind: something that looked like a pleasant smile—one that was kind but wasn’t stiff and too polite—etched on a face as white as snow, lips parting to say some lame joke to cheer someone up.

“What about me? Am I your friend?” Jongin asked curiously, breaking the image in Kyungsoo’s mind’s eye. The question caught him off-guard and he hesitated for a moment. He blinked, and Jongin thought that this might be the first time he’s seen his mentor looking tentative.

But then Kyungsoo scoffed, all demeanor and sass regained and Jongin couldn’t help but think that he just might have seen Kyungsoo’s reaction differently. “Don’t go fishing for things here, kid. Are you going to let me look over this stuff or am I going to have to resort to ignoring you again for a whole day like in District B?”

“Okay, okay. I’m going home. See you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, bye.” Kyungsoo stared at the drawing board. With his eyes, he traced the red string connecting the events and places and the photos of people. There were plenty of dead ends, roads leading into unknown territory and missing links that Kyungsoo desperately needed to piece together. It’s been half an hour since Jongin left, and Kyungsoo was still smiling at the doodle of a bear on the side of the board despite himself.

 _Fighting!!!_ ,it said. He had seen Jongin draw it sometime that day, but he couldn’t bring himself to erase the drawing.

 

 

They’d called in Chanyeol for further questioning. Apparently, Chanyeol also thought that Baekhyun didn’t have it in him to kill himself. Things were rarely what they seemed, Jongin mused. He couldn’t wrap his head around the thought process for all these incidents. It could merely be a case of coincidence that they had all known each other, or it could be purely intentional. Whatever it was, he was going to make sure that they got to the bottom of this, and put those lawbreakers behind bars.

“Hey Jongin, c’mere, I need you to help me with Minho.” Taemin dragged him to the side just as he had entered the doors to the police station. “I need to convince him that I can actually handle a case alone.”

Jongin, though having had known Taemin since their first day in the academy and being friends with him the second, is still sometimes surprised at how adamant Taemin is with not calling other people with proper honorifics. “Firstly, I don’t think that would be a good choice. And secondly, I’m really busy right now, so even if you try to rule out the first thing I said, there’s nothing I could do.”

“C’mon, Jongin.” Taemin more or less whined, grabbing Jongin’s sleeve. “For old time’s sake?”

Jongin laughed. “Not today, Taemin. Not today.”

“Ugh. And I thought we were friends!”

“Yes, but I still have work to do. Next time okay?” Taemin mumbled something unintelligible that sounded a lot like him cursing at Jongin, but Jongin just took it in his stride, venturing deeper into the police station, about to head to the detective’s office when he saw Chanyeol sitting on a waiting bench, looking as desolate as Jongdae had in the morgue.

“Sorry for making you wait,” Jongin smiled down at Chanyeol apologetically. The first thing Kyungsoo had done when he got home was to give him a call, asking him for theories regarding Park Chanyeol and Byun Baekhyun’s connection with Liyin and Jongdae. Naturally, he had to stay up late to check on his notes and he had overslept. Even in his rush, however, he wasn’t able to get to the police station on time, the heavy traffic by his apartment adding up to his problems. “Something just came up, and Detective Do wanted it done quickly.”

“It’s okay,” Chanyeol nodded, standing up to his full height and easily towering over Jongin. He could so as easily have felt overwhelmed, but Chanyeol’s shoulders were slumped as if in surrender, and he felt pity instead of trepidation.

Chanyeol’s eyes were rimmed with red, lips chapped and skin having an unhealthy pallor, and Jongin wasn’t sure how someone could look so intimidating yet so broken at the same time. “I haven’t been waiting for long.”

Jongin wondered if Kyungsoo had been right about his sentiment all along, and whether the people who brought out the best in you, could also easily be the ones who can cause you to be left shattered into a million broken pieces. It was possible. Anything was possible.

 

Chanyeol talked about himself, about his status at work. He was a real estate agent, and he’d recently been sent to District C to sell some houses. It was only for a week, he thought. He never intended to come home to see Baekhyun in that state, never even expected it.

“He never got out of the house much. Usually he’d have some friends from back in college come over and jam with him. But it stopped around March. He refused to see anyone else.”

“We found bottles of pills in the medicine cabinet,” Jongin placed one on the table, the bottle rattled a bit with a few pills left inside. “Are you aware that Baekhyun’s taking these?”

Chanyeol’s eyes widened. He inspected the bottle himself and looked back at the two detectives in disbelief. “No. I wasn’t aware he was taking medicine like this. What is this?”

“We don’t know yet. How are you not aware? It’s in your medicine cabinet. Do you not live together?”

Chanyeol shook his head. “We do. Baekhyun said he was taking vitamins, and whenever he took them, he always took it out from his medicine box. He never said anything, and I never suspected it of being something else. And the only time I open the medicine cabinet is when I get sick, which rarely happens.”

“We checked his medical records and he’s been seeing a psychiatrist a few times since November. Are you not aware of this too?” It’s Kyungsoo who asked again, and he slid a folder towards a Chanyeol who seemed completely shocked. “There are many things you don’t know about your boyfriend. Are you certain you’ve been dating him for years?”

“Yes, yes,” Chanyeol said, eyes scanning the records. “We’ve been dating for years. Baekhyun suddenly turned into a reclusive person after college. He stopped working last year because he said he didn’t want to interact with a lot of people. He said it began to stress him out.”

“That says a lot about you two.” Kyungsoo shook his head, taking back the folder. Jongin stared at the older man, his attention focused on the quirk of his lips and the sarcasm in his voice.

Jongin turned away. “Anyone in particular that could have been the cause of Baekhyun’s distress?”

“He never complained about anyone. No one except…” Chanyeol paused and his sadness morphed into something like distaste and anger. “I saw him,” he spat. His eyes trailed down to his own hands, curling them together. The rage rose in his voice. “I saw him when I was walking home that day. He was wearing a dark colored flannel shirt Baekhyun gave him before they broke up.”

Jongin’s ears perked up upon hearing this. “Who did you see and where?”

“Baekhyun’s ex. Kris Wu, or Yifan.” Jongin scribbled this down quickly. “He changed his name a few times—maybe he goes by some other weird name right now. Anyway, we were childhood friends: me, him, and Baekhyun. Grew up in the modest side of District F, until one day they started dating. Everyone thought that they’d always be together—even I did—but something happened and then they broke up after college. Wasn’t pretty.”

“How is this Kris Wu relevant to the case?” Jongin leaned in and whispered, partially covering his mouth. Kyungsoo shushed him with a stern look, waving a hand to let Chanyeol continue.

“Where did you see him, exactly?”

“I saw him getting out of the alleyway to our apartment. He sat down at the bus stop looking troubled. So, I went up to him to say hello since we were on speaking terms at the time. I didn’t think much of where he came from and why he was there. I thought he visited some friends from that part of the district, or something. But looking back at it now, the alleyway is the only entrance to our apartment.” Kyungsoo nodded at Jongin as he listed the details down on his worn out leather notebook. He paused from writing to hand Chanyeol a bottle of water before he continued speaking. He was still visibly shaken from what had happened.

“Kris killed Baekhyun.” Chanyeol said with much vindication.

“Are you sure about that claim, Mr. Park? We can’t just go around arresting people. We need more evidence than this. For now, all the evidence indicates that Baekhyun committed suicide. We have yet to receive word from the forensic team telling otherwise.”

“Baekhyun didn’t kill himself. He would never give up just like that. He’s strong.”

Jongin shook his head, jotting down his own notes. “Based on our initial observations, he committed suicide, Mr. Park. There were no signs of a struggle, he left a suicide note, and he overdosed on medications.”

“Are you forcing me to believe that Baekhyun killed himself?” The incredulous roar of Chanyeol’s voice made Kyungsoo wince, an unpleasant sound echoing in the small room. “I thought this was an interview to help in the case! I thought you were going to solve this and find out who killed him!”

“Yes, we are doing our best to solve this case. We do not mean any offense, Mr. Park. We are simply stating first hand observations from the scene. So, if you would kindly calm down,” Jongin said, offering Chanyeol his half-empty bottle.

“We would like you to validate your suspicions against this Kris Wu so we can bring him in for questioning as well.” He looked at Chanyeol in the eye.

“As I said, detectives,” Chanyeol growled. “Kris and Baekhyun dated before and they did not end on good terms. But they moved on from that and Baekhyun went out with me a year later. Kris had a younger boyfriend, Zitao—if I remember correctly. That’s all I know about Kris’ life. I am aware of Baekhyun’s cold shoulder attitude towards him and that Baekhyun didn’t contact him after their break-up. At least not that I know of.”

“You’re not aware of a lot of things,” he heard Kyungsoo mutter; thankfully Chanyeol didn’t seem to hear it. “Is that all?”

“That’s it,” Chanyeol sighed, exasperated at having to retell everything. The bags under his eyes were proof of how tired he was of everything.

“A few more questions. How do you know Zhang Liyin?” Kyungsoo asked.

Chanyeol’s face turned into a confused one. “She’s Jongdae’s fiancée, isn’t she? I don’t know much about her.”

Kyungsoo hummed in assent. “Then, how do you know Kim Jongdae?”

“Jongdae was a friend from college. We had math classes together. He and Baekhyun were also music majors and they usually hung out a few times a week. I don’t see much of him these days, I was always busy working.”

“How about Liyin and Baekhyun, did they know each other?”

“I don’t think so. Jongdae called us a few weeks after he proposed to her and asked if we’d attend the wedding.” Kyungsoo sighed and thanked him, dismissing him after a few more questions.

Jongin ushered Chanyeol out of the room. He apologized for any offense caused, standing on a spot by the doorway until he saw Chanyeol drive away. When he came back, he found Kyungsoo inside, staring at the ceiling. He was probably digesting new facts to piece them together.

“What do you think?”

“First Liyin, the coffee couple, and now Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo gave him a glance and continued to stare at the ceiling. “The connections are vague. It could be coincidence.”

“A string of bad luck?” Jongin asked, and took a seat across him. “We don’t have witnesses for Liyin’s death, except Sunyoung. She couldn’t even recall what the friend Liyin was with looked like. Baekhyun on the other hand, we haven’t figured out yet.”

“When did they get engaged again?” Jongin looked down at the notes, and scanned it quickly. His eyes landed on a squiggly drawing of a ring he used to help make him remember easily.

“September twenty seven.”

“That rules out my previous theory of Jongdae marrying her due to obligation. She was only three weeks pregnant before her death in December.” Kyungsoo ran a hand through his hair and groaned. “But it still doesn’t mean he couldn’t have killed her because of financial issues.”

Jongin sighed, and looked directly at the camera behind them.

 

  
“We’re here for the follow-up report on Byun Baekhyun’s autopsy.” Jongin said with an awkward smile, his tone raising towards the end of his sentence and turning it into a question.

“About time,” Sooyoung grumbled under her breath. “It’s been years already.”

“What was it?” Jongin asked, although he heard some of her words perfectly well.

“Nothing. Anyway, let me guess, your superior isn’t here again?” Sooyoung said by way of greeting right when she opened the door, and Jongin couldn’t help but grin. “He’s behind me, actually.”

She stuck her head out of the door to get a better look and seemed almost panicked for a moment, even before Kyungsoo had gotten to introduce himself, but she was able to school her expression back to a poker face. “Great. Seulgi unnie, Seungwan unnie, they’re here.” She stuck her head back in to call them over, and Jongin heard footsteps from behind her. “The morgue is right this way, follow me.”

The morgue was, for lack of better descriptions, quite depressing. There was nothing but dead bodies on top of metal autopsy tables, and even though they were covered with white sheets that showed only their feet, Jongin almost gagged at the sight of them. This wasn’t his first time to go into a morgue—his second time in District D’s morgue, even— that he at least knew to take long, steady breaths so as to not inhale the rotting scent of the dead, but he hadn’t actually gone in much to be able to get used to the sick feeling the mortuary always gave him.

The tables were lined up in two along both ends of the room, unlike the other morgues in richer districts, where the tables were fitted over mortuary racks put inside walk-in mortuary refrigerators. Sooyoung walked in casually, as if she was just walking into a newly-opened boutique in town. Some tables were actually empty, only around seven bodies on tables, but it didn’t make a difference to Jongin. A dead body was still a dead body, and seeing them made him queasy, covered or not.

Sooyoung headed straight for the third table to the right of the one on the farthest end of the left corner and peeled away the sheet covering the body. She didn’t even flinch, her expression one of apathy. Jongin wasn’t sure if it was because she’d done this one too many times or if she just didn’t care.

Seulgi followed them in. Seungwan, stuck close by, looking prim and proper in her lab coat, a clipboard held tightly against her chest. Kyungsoo fell into step, choosing to stand on the other side of the table opposite the three women. Jongin stood beside him, feeling ill. Baekhyun looked beautiful, both in pictures and even in death, but it made Jongin sick seeing him lying there, cold, pale, and lifeless.

Seulgi pulled out a pair of surgical gloves from the pocket of her lab coat and slipped them on, the rubber stretching over her hands. She gently held Baekhyun’s arm for the two detectives to see. “As you can see, Baekhyun had lacerations on his wrists. Mostly shallow, but some were a bit deep.” She tapped the cuts, indicating which ones would probably have caused him to lose a lot of blood. “Basing on his wounds, we’ve estimated the time of death to be around three or four days before his body was discovered. But the thing is, the actual cause and time of his death is still inconclusive.”

“Inconclusive?” Jongin said in disbelief at the same time Kyungsoo voiced out his concern for the length of time of Baekhyun’s death. “He was dead for days? If he was, why didn’t their neighbors report any foul smell?” Kyungsoo said in disbelief, voice a little louder than usual. Seulgi flinched, but she still managed to look at him in the eye.

“Cold weather conditions could prevent the growth of microorganisms.” She explained. “Seungwan has informed us that the environment the body was in was too cold even before he was transported here, so I suspect that that’s what hindered any way for the body to be discovered earlier on. If he—or the murderer, if that’s the case—left the window open, that could be a probability.”

“The window was opened, about an inch,” Jongin said quietly.

“Also,” Sooyoung quipped in, pointing at Baekhyun’s limp arm. She indicated several wounds on his left arm to draw their attention to them. “These—these weren’t made by him. The angles are off. That is, unless he twisted his right arm to cut these.”

“So he didn’t die of self-cutting, then?” Jongin clarified.

“Yes, he didn’t die of self-mutilation,” she said in a grave voice. “As Seulgi-unnie had stated, the results of the preliminary round of tests are inconclusive. The cuts aren’t deep enough to damage any veins connected to major arteries. Even if you say that he could have lost blood from having had too many cuts, it would take a long time.”

“It isn’t clear whether he died of hypothermia, or whether the pills got him first.” Seungwan added. “If we take that into consideration, that means he could probably have died a few hours earlier than the cuts suggest.”

“What? Is that even possible?” Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow, and Jongin could see that his patience was wearing thinner by the moment. The team couldn’t give him concrete evidence.

“Yes. We’re getting mixed estimations here. It seems that Baekhyun has been drinking alcohol. Might have used it to flush a handful of pills down. Oddly enough, we’ve found half-digested pills in his stomach that could probably mean he’d left a window open, just as you have confirmed with the reports you sent in yesterday as well. The cold weather outside could have easily put his body in a sort of preserved state. He digested some of the pills but died before everything could be digested by the stomach.”

 _There were no signs of alcoholic beverages in the bathroom_ , Jongin thought. “What pills have you found?”

Seungwan glanced down at the clipboard in her hands. She looked dissatisfied. “Due to the lack of pharmaceutical expertise among the team, we’re unable to identify it. We’ve sent it to HQ for analysis, should be back in a couple of days.” She shifted her eyes at the calendar propped up in the corner of the room. “Or weeks, depending on their caseload.”

Kyungsoo nodded, looking somewhat placated by that. “I’ll try to send a word in.”

“There were also no bruises, no signs of struggling,” Seulgi said, joining in again on the conversation. “Despite initial reports from the crime scene pointing to suicide as the cause of his death, the angles of some of his lacerations were a bit off. It’s quite suspicious, don’t you think?”

“According to medical records, he was taking medication for insomnia.” Sooyoung said, ignoring Seulgi’s last statement. “We compared the pill found in his stomach and the one he was supposed to take and they’re far from similar in terms of chemical makeup.”

“His boyfriend told us he was taking vitamins.” Jongin supplied, remembering Chanyeol’s interrogation.

“Zolpidem Tartarate isn’t a vitamin. It’s a sedative that’s used for treating short term insomnia.” Seungwan furrowed her eyebrows and sighed. “We’ll see what else we can find.”

“Yes, good job. Do report to the department of any new findings. Excuse us, we’ll take our leave now.” Kyungsoo turned on his heels and left with the door hanging open for Jongin. He didn’t wait for anyone to utter the first syllable of goodbye. Typical Kyungsoo, Jongin thought. Time wasn’t on their side, but he didn’t think it would hurt to properly say goodbye.

He smiled at all of them who looked at him expectantly. They seemed to think he’d leave without a word too. “Thanks for the hard work.” He stopped by Seungwan to affectionately ruffle her hair just like what he did in high school. She batted his hands away with a penlight, flushing red.

“You’re giving us too much work, you should be grateful we wrapped up Liyin’s reports before you hauled this guy in.” Jongin looked back toward the surgical table where Baekhyun’s body laid. With his eyes closed and mouth parted into a small ‘o’ shape, he almost looked asleep. Jongin shook his head. “I am,” he said, and ran after Kyungsoo.

 

Jongin sighed and looked at the phone in his hand longingly, belatedly realizing how much he’s missed his family. His sister called, asking if he was going to visit them tonight for Christmas. They didn’t really celebrate the occasion, but getting together with his family and having a great meal with his mom and sister beat the convenience store dinner he was just about to buy.

His sister was worried about him, as she always was and tried her best at getting him to promise he’d come over. He couldn’t because he had work to do tomorrow. Celebrating merrily with his family while people like Jongdae and Chanyeol were mourning for their loss made Jongin’s stomach churn.

Jongin pocketed his phone. He groaned his way through the food aisle of the convenience store, his fingers still stiff from the cold. There was snow melting all over his hair and his rumbling stomach wouldn’t shut up. The cashier even gave him a once-over in his pajamas. Jongin couldn’t be bothered to dress up.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he heard someone say. “It’s only ten, yet you look like a walking zombie in Spongebob pajamas.” Jongin looked up from the display of seafood noodles to see Kyungsoo dressed in an all-black ensemble from his cap down to his shoes, holding a basket. He could be wearing black socks and black underwear too, but Jongin quickly brushed the thought aside.

“You look like you’re out to kill someone,” he unwittingly said. The words just slipped out of his mouth without thought and when his brain finally caught up to the situation, he panicked, looking away and quickly changed the topic of the conversation. “Seafood noodles make colds go away.”

Kyungsoo laughed. He took off his black cap and placed it in the basket. “No, they don’t. Are you sick?”

“No.” Jongin’s stomach chose that time to complain. “Just hungry. Very hungry. What are you buying?”

“Ingredients for dinner.” _Oh._ Jongin said dumbly. His brain wasn’t working well. “You want to come over and eat? You seem to be stuffing yourself with unhealthy food.” He looked over at the contents of the basket in Jongin’s hand. “Wait, a dozen bottles of energy drink? Have you ever heard of coffee?”

Jongin hissed. “Poison. And yeah, I’d like to come over, if you’re willing to have me. As long as you don’t mind, right?”

Jongin was a hopeless puppy as Kyungsoo’s lips formed into a genuine smile. “It wouldn’t be a bother. You,” Kyungsoo looked down, “and your Spongebob pajamas are welcome in my apartment.”

He reasoned that his ears were red because he didn’t bring any mufflers with him. They fell into step on the way to Kyungsoo’s apartment. Jongin kept insisting that he needed the energy drink regardless of the amount of energy they don’t really give him. “Contrary to popular belief, detectives aren’t dogs, but I certainly smell bullshit on you.”

Jongin merely whined at him. He showered in the afternoon, so he probably didn’t really smell. But what if he did? Kyungsoo did say he smelled shit on him. Where was the incentive to lie?

“Stop doing aegyo and open another can of tomato sauce,” Kyungsoo said. The smell of spaghetti almost whacked him back into reality, but what really did it was when Kyungsoo tapped him by the shoulder.

Christmas wasn’t that bad for him. Maybe for Kyungsoo too because Jongin shared his energy drinks with him, which he rarely did. They talked about work, because that was the only topic that Jongin knew how to open up without having to worry about overstepping the imaginary boundaries he’d set between the two of them.

“If you want to tell me something or ask about anything, you can, you know.” Jongin was startled out of his internal monologue when Kyungsoo stopped stirring the pot of sauce to look at him, the beginnings of a smile forming on his lips. “We work together, right?”

“I—I’m not sure, hyung…” Jongin admitted, hesitation clear in his eyes. “I don’t exactly know what to ask.”

“Well then, why don’t we start with the basics?”

“I actually…don’t really know a lot about you, hyung.” Jongin frowned slightly at this, and Kyungsoo caught sight of it before it completely disappeared from his face. But he didn’t call Jongin out on it. “Tell me about yourself?”

“What’s there to tell when no one asks?” Kyungsoo mused. _He has a point_ , Jongin realized, but he hoped Kyungsoo would stop overcomplicating things this way. “C’mon, I’m not a ghost wandering here. You work with me; wouldn’t you know something about me from there?”

“You’re Detective Do Kyungsoo: a highly regarded official, currently training an ‘allegedly’ smart fresh graduate from the academy” Jongin made air quotes at that, and Kyungsoo rolled his eyes at him, but there was no malice behind it. “You trained under the same detective as District D’s chief.” Kyungsoo nodded for Jongin to continue. “Sharp-tongued. Kind of creepy. But very caring.” He finished with a smile.

“It’s nice to know that you’re really observant and all, but why are you listing my traits?”

“Because that’s all I know about you.” Kyungsoo looked at him with wide eyes—an expression he usually wore when he was contemplative. But their conversation was put to a sudden halt when Jongin saw the abandoned pot behind Kyungsoo. “But hyung, don’t you have to finish that?”

Kyungsoo cursed internally, momentarily having forgotten what he was cooking. He was clearly distracted, but he didn’t seem to have the heart to blame Jongin for it. “Sorry. But it’s not as bad as it looks. We can still eat this.”

“Hyung,” Jongin was so unsure of the man before him, the man who was supposed to be his mentor and his hyung. He was supposed to be a strict person, someone focused, and a role model for him. But that same man was cooking kimchi spaghetti for him on Christmas Eve and chuckling at him. “Who are you?”

Kyungsoo turned around and smiled. “I’m nobody compared to you.”

“Hyung,” Jongin started, and the end of his honorific sounded more like a child’s whining than a grown-ass man’s complaint. “I’m serious. I really want to know you.”

“Ask questions.”

“You’re evasive and vague with your answers.” Jongin pouted, resting his chin on the table. “Like a legendary Pokémon.”

“You’re such a nerd. How old are you again? Ten?” Kyungsoo laughed again until it faded away when Jongin didn’t respond to him. He finally noticed how Kyungsoo always touched his nose with a knuckle whenever he laughed. “You should add “too sarcastic” to that list of traits.”

“You see, I don’t really like talking about myself. Try asking again, and I’ll tone down with the unnecessary sarcasm.” Kyungsoo didn’t look at him, busy mixing together the spaghetti and the kimchi to look anywhere but.

Jongin pondered a bit. “Do you have any hobbies?” He handed the older man the plates and waited for Kyungsoo to fill them with food. The table was bare save for the empty glasses in the center. There were ice cubes in them already, but no actual beverage.

“Do you want soda or beer?” Kyungsoo wiped his hands on the sauce-stained apron and pulled out a bottle of beer. Jongin shook his head and poured energy drink into the glass. He watched the ice float as Kyungsoo thought up of an answer. “I don’t think I have a hobby besides work.”

Kyungsoo sat in front of him, folding the apron on his lap. “Reading, maybe. Or watching the news. Movies, too.”

“What’s your favorite movie?”

“I don’t have one. But there’s this one movie where the lead actor was a writer.”

Jongin snorted around mouthfuls of food. “There are plenty of movies like that. You have to be more specific.”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes shifted to the left. “He took drugs to enhance his brain’s performance. I remember the opening scene where he was standing on the ledge of a tall condominium.”

“Did he jump?”

“No. He back flipped off of it.” Jongin could get used to this side of Kyungsoo. Although it scared him at first, how different Kyungsoo was outside of work—where he was just his hyung. “Are you okay?”

“Why are you bubbly? Usually you’re—you’re all sorts of different right now. I think I’m going in shock.” Jongin made several dramatic gasps and choked on his spit. It was gross, but he was way too enthusiastic at the development. Kyungsoo whacked him playfully with a spoon when he caught himself. “Probably the Christmas spirit. Or am I just feeling gassy?

For a moment, Kyungsoo stopped smiling and went back to a serious face. He didn’t deign with an answer, and Jongin dropped the subject like a hot potato. “Do you have any movies we can watch?”

Kyungsoo nodded and lead him to the living room. There was a huge couch enough to fit three people, but Jongin chose to sit on the floor next to Kyungsoo’s feet. “Don’t want to spill anything on your couch,” he said. With the plate of kimchi spaghetti balanced on his lap, he watched as Kyungsoo rummaged through the collection of DVDs under the TV rack.

“Was this your old apartment before B?”

“Yeah,” He confirmed. It seemed like it with the old looking paintings hung on the wall. The furniture seemed like it hadn’t been moved in years, some of the picture frames even had dust on the frames. (He knew because he had run a hand over a picture of a freshly promoted Kyungsoo in the hallway.)

“I’ve watched all of these except this,” he pulled out a half-covered DVD. It was wrapped in Christmas paper and Jongin watched as Kyungsoo tore it open. “21 and Over. Have you watched this?”

“No.” No because he wasn’t listening. No because he forgot to bring Kyungsoo a Christmas present, and he’s intruding in Kyungsoo’s house demanding Kyungsoo to tell him who he was and eating his delicious kimchi spaghetti and watching movies in his living room. “Is it good?”

“Probably. Junmyeon hyung has weird tastes in movies.”

Throughout the movie, Jongin found himself staring off instead of catching up with the subs. Apparently 21 and Over was a foreign movie and he’s shitty at the language, making the conversation background noise to his inner turmoil. _Junmyeon gave Kyungsoo a present for Christmas._ It wasn’t because he was jealous; it was because he felt shitty for not getting his hyung anything.

He looked down at his empty plate, his stupid Spongebob jammies and thought, _hey this wasn’t planned anyway._ Maybe he could run to a store tomorrow and buy Kyungsoo something.

And then it hit him again: he didn’t know what kind of things Kyungsoo liked. Yes, movies. But what kind of movies? He could ask but that would ruin any chance at surprising him.

“You look bored out of your wits, kid.” Kyungsoo moved down to the floor next to him. “Should we call it a night? It’s almost two in the morning.”

“No, I was wondering what kind of movies you like.”

“That depends on the plot, or whatever my mood is on, really.” Jongin scrunched up his nose. What if he bought Kyungsoo something ridiculous and he wasn’t up for it? It would be a waste of Kyungsoo’s time. He should just buy Kyungsoo food.

And there it was again. What the hell was he going to buy? Pizza with anchovies? Or was Kyungsoo like the general public who preferred all meat on his pizza? Maybe he didn’t even like pizza. He should get him ground beans for coffee, but where can he buy that? Do convenience stores have that?

Jongin didn’t get a single question answered when Kyungsoo leaned in and kissed him. It was chaste, just a press of lips to the side of his head. “Merry Christmas, Jongin.”

Flushed, tired, and probably half hard, Jongin went home with another question; a question he whispered to the empty apartment he was in. _“What the fuck was that?”_

He waited for an answer he was never going to get.

 

Kris Wu came over to the station a few days after New Year’s, the man having been traced to his sister’s house instead of the apartment he was still registered at. He was a business man: a door to door sales man, he said. The suit certainly explained it, and the slicked back blond hair made him look more like someone you’d meet at an executive meeting.

Kyungsoo let Jongin usher Kris into the vacant interview room, and when it was evident he wouldn’t be joining them inside, Jongin reeled back with wide eyes. Kyungsoo just nodded. “You can do it.”

He could, without Kyungsoo’s supervision. He was knowledgeable enough to handle it himself. The countless times Kyungsoo had let him lead conversations and questions inside the room were more than any clue he could drop for Jongin. Saying he had top marks on the report Kyungsoo was sending in to HQ was an overestimation, though. Baby steps.

“Jongin’s catching on pretty quick, don’t you think?” Junmyeon stood next to him. He offered a cup of coffee to Kyungsoo, who gratefully took a sip from it. Junmyeon crossed his arms. The polite smile on his face never left as he watched Jongin on the other side of the glass interviewing Kris inside.

“He’s still got a long way to go,” Kyungsoo sighed. The glass prevented anyone inside the interrogation room to hear or see anyone outside of it. This was a good thing, because Jongin would probably whine at Kyungsoo. “I’m not sure if he’s taking everything Kris says as the truth or if he’s gotten better at this.”

“The hand fumbling is a dead giveaway. But he can’t see that from his position,” Junmyeon turned to look at him. “How was the movie?”

“It was nice,” he said. He hadn’t really paid any attention to it, just got enough of the plot to relay onto Junmyeon. “Makes me wish I spent college like them instead of sleeping in the library.”

“I chose it so you could maybe live through them. I like the sweater, by the way. My neighbor stared intensely at me this morning when I was getting the papers. I think I still have it in me.”

Kyungsoo sneered at him, proceeding to the tech room with Junmyeon behind him. “You’r neighbor has weird taste like you. Ask them out for some drink or two. They were probably undressing you in the back of their minds. It’s the least you deserve.”

“You’re the one who gave me that cat sweater.”

“I just saw it in B and it awfully reminded me of everything you stood for in college.”

“Cats?” Junmyeon squinted at him.

“Something like that,” he grinned. A monitoring staff handed him a mic connected to Jongin’s ear piece, and he waved at Junmyeon.“Turn up the volume on room one, I can’t hear a thing with the mumbling.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

“I was waiting for Baekhyun at the beach. He told me we’d meet there around seven, and he was late by an hour. I could never forget the coldness of the sand beneath my feet or even the chilly breeze as I waited…” Kris spoke like he was reading from a script, or a novel, perhaps. There were too many adjectives for it to be considered as an answer for an interrogation. Jongin looked dubious—was it even possible for someone to talk in real life as if they’re characters brought to life from pages of literary works? But in the end, he let it pass and only took down the important details. He had to, or else they wouldn’t get anywhere with all the flowery words. _Beach at seven, Baekhyun late by one hour._

“He walked up to me in his bravado of nonchalance. I was so determined to stop myself from punching his face. He told me to stop.” Kris looked down and paused. He asked for a glass of water, looking greatly stressed. Jongin handed him a bottle that they usually kept in the room, since glass may be broken and used as a weapon against them. Besides, it was tiring to keep refilling water.

He thought that maybe the tall man really did talk that way, but clearly, there’s something suspicious about Kris’s story. Something just doesn’t add up.

“Finish it, Mr. Wu. We’ve been here for almost an hour, and unfortunately, we don’t have all day.”Jongin heard Kyungsoo say over his earpiece. He let himself be shocked for a fraction of a second, before realizing Kris wouldn’t be able to hear anything Kyungsoo said.

Jongin cleared his throat and adjusted his tie as he thought of a way to rephrase what Kyungsoo had said. “Go on, Mr. Wu. Please finish your statement.”

The fidgeting man in front of Jongin looked up. He seemed so small and pitiful even with his tall physique and broad shoulders that Jongin almost complied with getting him something else to drink. Seeing as he didn’t have any other choice, Kris sighed and continued. “He told me he couldn’t do it anymore. I asked him why, and he didn’t answer, so I rambled on and on, shifting from Korean and Mandarin in frustration. I got tired and eventually stopped talking. And you know what he did? He looked at me, stood up, and left. Nothing else. No explanation, no goodbyes, nothing. I wanted to run after him after a while, but I couldn’t. He fucking broke me.”

Jongin opened his mouth to say something, but Kyungsoo interrupted his train of thought by speaking loudly over his earpiece. Clearly, his mentor was irritated. “That’s it? That’s your whole motive? You wanted revenge because he broke your heart, so you killed him? How are these criminals getting more and more pathetic by the day?”

Jongin blinked as he tried to recollect his thoughts before trying again. “Mr. Wu, you do know that from your statement, it could be implied that you killed Byun Baekhyun because he broke your heart.”

Kris shook his head. “I didn’t kill him.”

“Mr. Park said he saw you loitering around near their apartment. Said you looked troubled. Tell me what’s up, Mr. Wu. Tell me why you were so troubled that day. The same day which was Baekhyun’s estimated day of death, huh?”

“I didn’t know where they lived until Chanyeol saw me and told me they were just around the corner. I swear if I knew they lived nearby, I would have asked Amber to come to my place instead. It would have given me sufficient time to process my mother’s condition. She’s been sick for days and, frankly, Amber needs me to pay half of mom’s bills.”

“So you asked money from Baekhyun and killed him. Or maybe he refused to give you any so you killed him.” Kyungsoo snickered through the headpiece loud and clear, but Jongin promptly ignored him and his unhelpful remarks. He might be a senior, but Kris, according to the psychology books he read back in college, showed signs of being a delicate and brittle soul, despite his thick and angry eyebrows. So instead, Jongin asked in that small voice of his that sounded almost sympathetic.

“Did you manage to pay your bills?” Shaking his head dejectedly, Kris asked for more water. It’s a low blow, but to get either information or a confession, Jongin needed to play his cards right with Kris. He wasn’t going to bend with harsh words and accusatory tones. Kris was more likely to break and panic, which was, in all honesty, something Jongin didn’t have time to handle.

Kris coughed after finishing his bottle of water. “I’m figuring out how to split my salary, not feeling guilty because you think I killed Baekhyun. It is a loss that he died. But I did not kill him. I moved on.” He stared at Jongin with resolute eyes.

And that time, Jongin wasn’t able to filter through Kyungsoo speaking through his earpiece that he accidentally echoed his mentor’s sentiment. “To your new boyfriend, Huang Zitao, aged twenty-three.”

Kris visibly glowered. “Ex-boyfriend.”

Jongin practically heard Kyungsoo lean back on his chair; could picture the older man folding his arms behind his head and inclining his head to serve as a cushion. “Do tell me how you met this Huang Zitao.” This time, he let Kyungsoo finish his sentence before jumping in and asking Kris. “Could you tell me how you met Huang Zitao?”

“I wanted to get wasted 24/7 after the break up. I met Tao at a club a few years back. We broke up around a year and a half ago. He was cheating on me so I got the hell out of there and moved to District B. Never heard from him since.”

“That’s sort of dubious. With that said, you’re most likely to have killed Huang Zitao and Byun Baekhyun. They both did something to you—which was break your heart. Wouldn’t take much to get even with them at that point, right? You seem to strike me as the kind of person who believes in happily ever after in romance, right Mr. Wu?” Jongin couldn’t help but think the same as Kyungsoo, but he couldn’t say this out loud for some reason. It sounded wrong coming from him. Kyungsoo’s words were too blunt—too harsh to say to someone who’s clearly had a rough time. He even heard Junmyeon over the earpiece, calling Kyungsoo’s name in a strictly warning tone.

“What? Don’t you think so, too?” Kyungsoo retorted, knowing that he had a point. Instead, Jongin said, “I see. Then does that mean you didn’t know about Mr. Huang’s disappearance?”

Kris visibly paled. The man worked an eight to five job as a door-to-door salesman. He and Zitao didn’t seem to be the type of couple to still get in touch with each other, considering they didn’t break up on mutual terms. “What do you mean, detective? What happened to Taozi?” His voice softened and almost cracked at _Taozi._ Maybe he really didn’t know.

“Oh, I uh… thought—“Jongin fumbled for the right words because he didn’t know how to handle the situation without breaking Kris’s heart once more. The guy seemed to have had enough of heart-shattering moments, and clearly, he wouldn’t need another one. But he had already started the story, so he might as well finish it.

He looked down at the notes he compiled from Kris’ and Zitao’s folder. “According to reports, Huang Zitao and his current boyfriend, Oh Sehun, have been missing from their apartment since last summer. We searched and scoured the nearby districts and questioned at least some close friends of the two. They haven’t heard from them, since last summer.”

Kris looked like he needed a drink. “Were there any leads?” He still seemed to be worried for his ex. Maybe they didn’t break up on good terms, but even Jongin knew that you can’t stop loving someone just because they did something wrong, even if it was unforgivable. Maybe Kris wasn’t the killer after all—it sounded absurd for someone to kill someone that they loved so dearly.

“No, still none so far.” Jongin replied. Kris looked crestfallen, his shoulders sagging.

“I hope he comes back,” he said in a low voice, eyes looking glazed over, but it was enough for Jongin to hear.

“But when did he and Huang Zitao break up?” Kyungsoo mused. “Ask him, Jongin. Do it.” Jongin groaned as if he were about to protest, but thought better of it. Kyungsoo was a no-bullshit type of person, and even if his way with investigating got harsh sometimes, he solved all of his cases in record time.

Jongin mulled over it for a moment, but Kyungsoo’s command was enough to make him follow. Kyungsoo wouldn’t make him go to such an extent of asking a really personal question if it didn’t matter, right? “When did you and Huang Zitao break up?” Jongin felt as if he was trying to talk while chewing on sand.

“The last week of June.” Kris looked confused as to why the police are digging around his life and invading his personal space. _It’s an investigation, every tiny detail matters,_ his brain supplied him.

“But the couple left their apartment sometime in early July and never came back.” This time, he heard Junmyeon speaking through the earpiece, and Kyungsoo reiterated clearly, connecting the pieces together.

“You really weren’t aware that they disappeared?”

“No. After we broke up, I cut all ties with Tao. I figured that I shouldn’t meddle in his affairs anymore because already we broke up. I tried my best not to hear anything from him, because I thought that would have made things easier between the two of us. It made it easier for me to forget, and it would have made it easier for him to move in with his new boyfriend.”

“It’s really weird though, because Huang Zitao and his new boyfriend did disappear without a trace.”Jongin mused.

“Taozi…” Kris looked down, utterly unsure. “He does— _did_ drugs and even if I disapproved of it, he still used them, claiming it was for the good of the world,” he looked back up at Jongin, eyes shining. “Maybe that’s why he disappeared? Maybe he got involved with some drug lords or something, and they wanted him dead? Or maybe he got into a fight when he was in a club. But he’s really good at martial arts though. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have gone down without a fight.”

“And?”Jongin tried to pry deeper. “Is that one of the reasons why you left him?”

“Tao… He was often times violent with me. It’s an embarrassing tidbit but he’s quite different when he’s high and drunk. He tends to dominate, sometimes pulling out a gun or a knife. He had one under the kitchen sink.”

“A knife?”

“A gun.”Jongin kept his mouth shut about not seeing a gun in the list of things the couple left behind. He figured if Kris was lying about the gun to prove his innocence, then there’s a possibility of him lying about his breakup with Baekhyun.

Everything was all hard evidence or full blown lies. Jongin flashed a glance at the camera tucked away in a high corner of the room before he stood up from his seat. “Well Mr. Wu, I think that’s enough for today. I know it’s hard on you, talking about these people like this, but I’d like for you to come back tomorrow. It’s almost evening, and you seem…tired.”

Just as Kris stood up, about to take Jongin’s hand for a polite handshake, Kyungsoo burst into the room, wearing that polite smile that could equally surpass Junmyeon’s professionalism if he wasn’t informed beforehand that it was fake.

Across from Jongin, Kris sighed and dropped his hand, his eyebrows furrowing. “Good day, then,” he said. Kyungsoo returned the sentiment with a few nods.

“Absolute bullshit,” Kyungsoo groaned. He sat on the chair Kris took earlier when the tall male exited the room. Jongin gave him a look of disdain.

“Not really, he verified Chanyeol’s breakup story.”

“What?” Kyungsoo loosened his tie, one of his indications of doneness. “That’s all you got? Call in his relatives tomorrow to verify his alibis or some of the people he claimed he was with the past year.”

Jongin just stood there, looking unsure. “Is family even reliable? Wouldn’t they just as easily lie to protect the people of their own blood?”

“Yeah, but that isn’t always the case. If worse comes to worse, we can always arrest him for obstruction of justice. He’s obviously lying, but I just need to confirm with someone which part of it is at least the truth.”

“And if not?”

“There’s no other option but to make them say the truth. I don’t want any more lies. I get that everyday already.

 

Jongin, in all his life, had never been quite as baffled as going back to work, expecting Kyungsoo to at least say something about what happened. Kyungsoo didn’t and continued to act normal. He could be playing with Jongin. He could have a twin with a different personality, who may or may not like Jongin back. Could he also have split personality?

He thanked all the reports dumped on his desk. With work, he didn’t need to bother to think what Kyungsoo’s goal in mind was. It was distracting him from thinking about the case on hand, and quite possibly catching Taemin’s interest. He liked to tease Jongin in any given moment.

The only time they got alone again was after Kris’ interrogation. It was some ungodly hour of the day, the other detectives already on their way home or snoring away in bed. They had to theorize and look over details, had to agree on the next move they’re going to make. Jongin, for not the first time in a long while was spacing out, staring at the way Kyungsoo’s lips moved.

With a sigh, Kyungsoo stood up. “We shouldn’t mix our personal lives with work. Emotions muddle up our thinking.”

Jongin sat, digesting the words. He was throwing shade. It’s really bright in the room but Kyungsoo was throwing shade. Kyungsoo started strutting off with a phone in his hand. “Hey, make me a cup of coffee? I need to call District A for those forensic results. Thanks.”

Jongin turned around, about to ask Kyungsoo how he wanted his coffee, only to realize that he was already gone. He sighed, and decided to take off to the break room down the hall instead. 

He saw Junmyeon, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was three in the morning, which was quite unusual of a time to have a run-in with a coworker who wasn’t exactly involved in a case. “Officer, you’re here.”

“Figured I needed a short break.”

“Yes, that’s true. You work very hard,” Jongin nodded.

Junmyeon looked at him with eyes trained like a hawk’s. Jongin was flustered with how that sounded, so he tried to busy himself by doing what he had intended to do there in the first place and find an empty cup. Junmyeon, having had noticed Jongin’s sudden movements looked up from mixing the contents of the cup in his hand and brought the cup close to his lips, blowing on it to cool down. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to make coffee?” He answered when he turned on his heel to face Junmyeon.

Junmyeon hummed around his cup of coffee in understanding before he plucked a disposable cup from the counter behind him. “You drink coffee?”

“Ah, no. Kyungsoo hyung asked me to.” Junmyeon nodded silently as he poured coffee into the cup. He reached for the condiments box behind the cups, and Jongin saw how sure he was when he brought out one sugar cube and one stick of creamer and handed them to him.

“He must really trust you for him to let you make his coffee.” Junmyeon observed, silently mixing the coffee on the counter.

“Why’s that?” He turned to Junmyeon, his eyes were getting droopy despite napping all afternoon at his desk, exhausted of thinking.

“He’s always paranoid about being poisoned or something. It’s funny.”

“I wouldn’t say Kyungsoo hyung is funny. He’s really… what’s the word? Diverse.”

“How come?”

 _Diverse in the sense that he’s inconsistent with his personality._ Junmyeon might rattle him out so he clenched his teeth and lied. “He was talking about emotions and being an unfeeling wrench earlier. The case isn’t clearing up and the longer we work on it the hazier it gets.”

“That’s how it is. Criminals are getting good at hiding and covering up their crimes. I’m sure you’ll catch your crook.”

“Well, not if everyone is suspected as the killer.”

“In our line of duty, even if I’m just a policeman, we don’t have the luxury of trusting people so easily.”

“I know, but to the point where he suspects Chanyeol and Kris for killing Baekhyun and Jongdae killing Liyin?”

“Love is a heavy emotion, Jongin. The more you’re in it and the more you feel it, the more you’ll set yourself up for a whole lot of pain if the other person decides to break your heart. Remember when you were a kid and was scared of cooties and love?”

Jongin gave him a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I wasn’t an active child when I was younger. Preferred sleeping and dancing to playing under the sun.”

“The point is, love can drive you to kill someone—for someone.”

Jongin paused. It made him think of how Jongdae looked when he came in, of how Yixing’s demeanor crumbled and turned into pure outrage. He remembered the look his mother had when his father filed for a divorce and married a younger woman. “Have you fallen in love, hyung?”

“That’s a personal question.” He laughed, his lips formed into a tight smile. His eyes flickered down to the well mixed coffee in his hands. “Love is dangerous in many ways.” He handed Jongin the cup and politely excused himself. “I’m going off to do patrols, don’t break the coffee machine, Jongin.”

As Jongin watched him go, he let himself think of what ifs. Kyungsoo’s heart shaped smile turning into a grimace. Kyungsoo’s eyes twitching in contained anger. Kyungsoo crying. He sighed, his sentiments echoing in the walls of the break room. “Get a grip Jongin. Get a fucking grip.”

 

Amber fumbled with her fingers nervously, her eyes flicking between Jongin and Kyungsoo. She hadn’t said anything yet, but Jongin could see that she was nervous.

“Relax,” Jongin said, a gentle smile gracing his features. “We’re only here to ask you some questions and then you’re free to go.” Jongin didn’t quite see the look Kyungsoo gave him, but Kyungsoo would rather have it that way, anyway.

Amber laughed hesitantly at Jongin, at that the tension inside the room dropped a few notches. “Yeah, okay.”

“We only need you to tell us the truth. It won’t be that hard, right?” the way Jongin talked to her made Kyungsoo wonder whether Jongin was good with children, because he was giving off that kind of vibe. Kids would probably flock over to him and easily hand their trust over. In some way, Kyungsoo was envious, not being especially good with being social. But he dropped the thought as soon as it had come, because he needed to deal with the matter at hand first.

Amber’s mouth twitched –it’s just a small movement of her lips, barely even noticeable. Kyungsoo looked over to Jongin, confirming if he noticed, and even if Jongin wasn’t initially as perceptive as Kyungsoo made him to be, he clearly saw it. Kyungsoo nodded at Jongin when their eyes met, an invitation to proceed with the questions. “Where were you from the seventh to the twelfth of December?”

“I’m usually at work, in District B. My shift starts from eight and ends at around the same time in the evening, not to mention that I only have Sundays off, so I’m rarely home. But lately my shift’s been until ten, since a lot of people tend to flock in the gift shop starting September. January’s just starting too, so a lot of people are still coming in.” She looked partly uncomfortable, but at least she wasn’t stuttering. If Jongin were in her shoes, he thought that he’d probably be uncomfortable, not being the type of person to like being pried information off from of his private life.

“You live in B now?” Kyungsoo asked, just to make sure. The house where they found Kris was registered as his sister’s but you never know, right?

“Yes. My mom’s in the hospital, and we thought it’d be better to have her treated in B than back in District F.” She looked a bit taken aback at the sudden change, but she answered the question straight ahead anyway.

It’s Jongin’s turn now, so he just decided to make a follow-up on Kyungsoo’s question. “What about your brother, Kris Wu?”

“He still has that ridiculous bag of his, so it’s pretty obvious that he’s still working on those pens.” She smiled a bit at this.

“And he stays at your place?” Amber gave Jongin a cursory glance before settling her eyes on Kyungsoo.

“Uh, yeah…” she looked uncomfortable regarding the topic, eyes flitting down distractedly. “For a while now. He moved in a few weeks ago. We were trying to save up money for mom and staying and splitting up for apartment money was a great choice. And as I said, Christmas is near. It’s been a long time since I’ve spent any holiday with my brother. It was a nice change, if you ask me.”

“Has he told you anything about Huang Zitao?” Kyungsoo asked, pressing further on the matter.

Amber paused, looking thoughtful. “Ahh, Zitao. Nothing much, really. Aside from his name and the other usual stuff, there isn’t anything substantial that I know of.”

When asked about Baekhyun, however, she definitely had a lot to tell, Kris and Baekhyun’s history running back since they were small. “We didn’t see each other as often as we used to when we were still younger, given that they went to school in B and I was in F, but Kris brought him over sometimes. During college though, I heard they broke up. Kris wasn’t the same ever since.”

Jongin looked up from writing on his notepad, pen poised to a pause. “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t smile as often as he used to.” Amber looked sad, frown deepening as though something she recalled left a bitter taste in her tongue. “It was as if Baekhyun took the light out of him.”

“So he really took the break-up to heart, huh.” There’s a sympathetic look in Jongin’s eyes, and Kyungsoo spared him a puzzled glance, not knowing where he’s getting the empathy from. Did he have his heart broken like that? Or did he just happen to know someone who loved a person so much that they lost themselves after the break-up, everything else falling apart?

“From what I saw, Kris really loved him a lot. Too much for his own good, even.”

“Do you know why they broke up, then?” Jongin asked. “Or do have at least any ideas why?”

“No,” Amber answered directly without much preamble. “It’s a topic that Kris doesn’t like bringing up. I tried asking him before, but he just brushed me off. Maybe because it still pains him. Even though he had Zitao after his breakup with Baekhyun, their dynamics were… different.”

Jongin’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’m not quite sure but... Well, even though Kris is the type to be easily embarrassed, he shares some of his stories about Baekhyun. But with Zitao… I don’t know.” The unease was back in Amber’s eyes, but Jongin just signaled for her to continue. “I don’t know, but even when he was with Zitao, it was like he was still hung up on Baekhyun. Besides,” she paused, biting her lip in thought, thinking if it’s a good thing to say or not. Jongin encouraged her with a small nod and a smile. “I had a feeling that Zitao only kept him around for fun.”

“What do you mean?”

“Okay the thing is,” Amber exhaled, as if she’s about to let something out of her system that she was hesitant to tell them. “They were in a dysfunctional relationship. Zitao used to hurt Kris in different ways. Sometimes a paddle, a sharp glass, or whatever. He had some sick twisted kink that Kris was stupid enough to indulge him in. When Kris visited mom I saw the bruises and the cuts. They weren’t pretty. So I told him he needed to get his shit together and break up with the guy.”

“And he did,” Kyungsoo leaned back, the chair creaking due to the shift of his weight.

Amber shook her head. “After a couple of weeks he came back to visit and told me they were still together. I asked him if the hurting was consensual, for my peace of mind. It wasn’t, but he liked Zitao enough to not show him how uncomfortable it was for him. Kris is just this stupid blond giant sack of feelings. He cares too much about other people, and little of himself.” Amber ran a hand through her equally blonde hair, groaning. Kyungsoo patiently waited for her to continue.

“The next time he came over he told me they broke up. Zitao had pulled a gun out on him, insisted they play a little Russian Roulette, and thank god Kris was sane enough to get out of there. Asked if he could crash in with me for around a week and he moved out to F.”

 

Henry came in the room and brandished a cake that looked like it was going to topple over if he was going to keep holding it that way. “Happy birthday, Kyungsoo-ah!” He shouted. “Many birthdays to come!”

“What is all this? Jongin squinted at the cake. Kyungsoo stared down at the amount of beer cans opened on the table and then back at Jongin. He swore he saw a bottle of vodka somewhere in the pile of beer cans.

“Oh don’t you worry, Jongin-ah! We already decided on which kind of cake to get to for you!”

“Hey!” Hyoyeon smacked him playfully on the arm. It still made quite a loud sound to be just playful. “Stop spoiling the surprise!”

Taemin came up to Jongin and put an arm around his shoulders. “Happy birthday, dude.”

“You’re twenty five, please stop calling me dude. And my birthday’s not until a few days later.” He grinned and accepted the glass Taemin handed him. Henry grabbed his arm and leaned in to whisper something. Kyungsoo was only half-curious about it, but what’s gotten his interest was Junmyeon who came up to him with a box.

“Hyung, you’re in this too? Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?”

Junmyeon chuckled and handed him the box. “Happy birthday, Kyungsoo. I took a day off today to celebrate. Plus, I have to take care of the people here and make sure they don’t party too hard.”

“Isn’t that Detective Lau’s job?” He grinned, his thumb fumbling with the box’s ribbon. He looked over at the side and saw the said detective pulling Jongin into a headlock and messing up the younger’s hair as the others cheered on. “Well, he’s not doing a good job at it. I’m here, I can handle them.”

“I know you could.”

“Thanks for the gift, hyung.” He patted the older male’s shoulder and watched as Junmyeon helped an already tipsy Minho onto a chair.

 

“Well that was quite…” Jongin scratched his ear. They were on their way out of the police station, donning thick coats.

“Surprising?” Kyungsoo provided for him. Jongin nodded with an amused smile on his lips. Lately, Kyungsoo knew the right words for what he had to say. It was quite endearing, really, that they seemed to know each other enough to be able to finish each other’s sentences. Or maybe Jongin was just imagining things. He probably was, after the lecture he got about not mixing work and personal life.

They ducked into a small pub of Jongin’s choice. There weren’t many patrons there, just a bunch of boisterous old men and a couple engrossed in a hushed conversation in the corner. Jongin was too preoccupied in shrugging off his damp trench coat and wiping the obvious glee from his face to notice that Kyungsoo was grinning at him.

“You come here often?” Kyungsoo asked in between a few mouthfuls of jjajangmyeon.

“Only when I’m allowed to choose places. My friends back in college would just drag me to loud party clubs and ditch me halfway through the night to make out with people. Sometimes I get dragged to noraebangs, but singing isn’t really my thing.”

“Then what _is_ your thing? I realized last time, all we talked about was me. Tell me about your interests, Jongin-ah.”

“Jazz and ballet. And my kids.” He flushed.

“Kids?” Kyungsoo’s eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t seem like a family man.”

“Ah, no.” He gathered himself, a hand over his quivering knee. It felt like high school all over again. He felt like he was going to puke anytime if he didn’t restrain himself. “I mean my dogs. I have this habit of calling them my kids.” He shyly downed another glass, the slide of alcohol down his throat seemed like a natural occurrence at that point for it to burn.

“Say, now that we’re on the topic of children, have you had any plans on settling down?” he said, turning the question back to Kyungsoo. He’s only curious, _that’s all_ , he told himself. “After all this running around chasing criminals, wouldn’t it be nice to come home to someone who’d cook for you when you get home?”

Kyungsoo stayed silent, looking at Jongin questioningly before he let out a laugh. “I can cook for myself, Jongin.”

Somersaults again. “I’m sorry, hyung.” Jongin wanted to blame the alcohol for making his tongue too loose but that would be pathetic, it was because of his stupid heart. Or his dick.

Kyungsoo waved a dismissive hand at him. “Let’s talk about something else that doesn’t have anything to do with my non-existent love life.”

He wanted to ask why he kissed him. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just a peck. But it annoyed Jongin, he wanted to know what it meant. But Kyungsoo was having none of it. It was his birthday today, and his present was his company. Cheesy, but important. Maybe he’d ask on his birthday.

“I notice you glaring a lot and most of your smiles are tight lipped like it pains you to smile. Did you know frowning stresses your face?” Jongin added a tidbit of a joke at the end so Kyungsoo would know to not take it too seriously or get offended if he thought Jongin crossed his limits.

Kyungsoo gulped down half of his drink before answering Jongin’s question. “I can’t see very well. I haven’t had the chance to set an appointment with my ophthalmologist, seeing as our hands are tied pretty tight these days.”

“That must suck. Not seeing in twenty-twenty. How are you going to catch your perpetrator if your eyesight’s blurry?”

“I trust you.” Kyungsoo replied, as if the weight of his statement wasn’t too much and that it didn’t seem too unusual for him to say this out loud.

Jongin almost spat out his drink at that. It was nearly too much. Kyungsoo acted unaffected, nursing a glass between his hands and body positioned lazily on the chair with a small smile on his face. He did not know the depth of his words and its terrible effect on Jongin. They were detectives. They weren’t supposed to fall for dirty tricks, only the guilty should fall for it. This felt awfully like a dirty trick, the _lovey-dovey look._

Back in the academy, trust was always considered to be both a weakness and strength. It was not supposed to be given to just anyone. _You have to ask. Get real answers. Always be skeptical, always have a little doubt,_ they would always say to him. In their line of work, it mattered greatly who you trusted. And for Kyungsoo, his mentor, to say he trusted him, spoke volumes.

“That’s why I had you run after that guy the last time. My old man bones can’t handle too much physical exertion.”

“Oh. You’re not that old.”

“Probably not. Just aging. But now that I’m another year older, and nearer to my thirties than twenties, I feel like I am.”

“But hyung, you look like you’re sixteen. Maybe you’re aging backwards.” Kyungsoo’s expression darkened, and Jongin stuttered out apologies in fear. Kyungsoo started laughing at him, and Jongin just looked at him, dumbfounded. His smile could probably light up a whole room.

“I sacrificed fifty virgins and sold my soul to Satan. That’s probably why.”

Kyungsoo was still smiling, and Jongin couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way Kyungsoo’s lips were curled. His heart began to thud louder in his chest, his ears already deaf from the monotonous beating. He just hoped that Kyungsoo didn’t notice.

He smiled back, the pull of his lips tentative, but not forced. “Happy birthday, hyung.”

 

 

The first thing that greeted Jongin when he entered the facility was Taemin. He was seated on Jongin’s table, legs dangling over the edge, his face mischievous as he grinned down at Kyungsoo.

“What’s going on?”

“Good morning to you too, Detective Kim Jongin,” Taemin did a mock salute. He was adamant about not getting off Jongin’s table, insisting that he was bored and maybe Jongin could offer him amusement until Minho clocked in. 

Tsk-ing very loudly in disapproval, he sat on the swivel chair and greeted Kyungsoo good morning. The older man had texted him the previous night and given him tips on how to cure hangovers, which in retrospect, he desperately needed back in college. But the tips didn’t go unappreciated. Jongin sent him countless emoticons and various emojis to thank him profusely until they were randomly communicating through emojis and stickers. Jongin had fallen asleep first, the heavy drowsiness lulling him, and when he woke up, Kyungsoo had left messages, a sleeping emoticon with three z’s and a short good night.

He had yet to unravel the mystery behind Kyungsoo’s actions. Of why he flirts (or maybe was just being too nice and replied to Jongin’s texts really fast) whenever work wasn’t involved, and when work was involved, Kyungsoo acted indifferent.

Kyungsoo looked up from his coffee mug and handed him a brown envelope. “HQ finally sent back results from the forensic scan on the suicide letter Baekhyun left. DNA, blood, fingerprints, all completed and in here. Look them over for me, I’m not fully awake yet.”

“What makes you think I am?”

“You’re grinning like an idiot. You’re perfectly awake in my book.”

Taemin raised an eyebrow at the exchange, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Can I go through this without your butt on my table?”

“No,” Taemin smiled, peering at the contents of the envelope. Jongin sighed and tried to ignore Taemin’s existence. “Ooh, what a pretty paper.”

“Taemin, please shut up.” Pouring out the contents, Jongin saw that the letter was sealed neatly in a new plastic covering and it came along with a blaring red folder. The print on the front proudly read “DISTRICT A; FORENSIC TEAM” in dark letters.

Jongin ran a thumb over the district logo before going through the findings. “The blood results point to two people. Baekhyun and someone unidentified. Fingerprints show Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s.”

“What do you mean unidentified?” Kyungsoo asked. “Didn’t we hand over blood samples from everyone closely involved in this soiree?”

“Except for Kris and Jongdae’s. Also Amber’s. D’s science team got Liyin and Jongdae’s mixed up for some reason, and the siblings’ samples have not been turned over yet. I think Seungwan’s waiting for the team to straighten out Liyin and Jongdae’s mix up.”

“Why are you so lax about this?” Kyungsoo groaned, picked up the phone and dialed furiously. Seungwan was going to get an earful about the samples from Kyungsoo and Jongin had no intention of intervening. Kyungsoo’s cup wasn’t even half empty yet.

Taemin shuffled in his seat, tapping Jongin on the shoulder to get his attention. “They sure are very extravagant with their letters.”

“I know, but HQ’s font style hurts my eyes,” Jongin said, not really paying close attention to anything but Kyungsoo grumbling into the mouthpiece of the phone. 

“I mean this letter. Where’d they get this paper? My grandma used to write letters to me when I was a kid. She lived in the Southeast part of F that time while we were struggling in B. We didn’t have time to visit her on most days and it’s not like she could sit on a bus for hours to travel. So, the point is, she sent us numerous letters, using paper just like this.” He held up the letter, flipping it over and showing the back part of it.

“I’ve looked for paper like this all over shops and markets, but I couldn’t find any. My grandma told me only one stationery shop in District F sells them. You should check it out.”

“Check what out?” The two of them looked at Kyungsoo, but Kyungsoo was firmly looking at only Jongin. “Are you planning on going bar hopping? If you must know, it’s a weekday and we just went to a bar last night, you shouldn’t develop a drinking problem.”

“What?” Jongin gaped at him, lost.

“I was just telling Jonginnie about something he needed to know, Detective Do. I’ll take this as my cue to leave.” Taemin waved at them and sauntered over to Hyoyeon who just shoved his face away.

Jongin grumbled an _I don’t plan on developing a drinking problem_ the same time Kyungsoo asked,“What was he talking about?”

“There’s a shop in F that sells this specific type of paper, or so Taemin says. It does look kind of unique, if you look at it closely.” Kyungsoo leaned over and stared at the paper for a full minute. Jongin belatedly remembers his eye problem. “Each row of the flowers have no two flowers alike. And there’s barely a pattern with them.”

“What are you proposing?”

Jongin glanced around, and after making sure no one was looking, he planted a soft and quick kiss on Kyungsoo’s temple. “How about tomorrow, you get some contacts or something and I check this stationery shop out.”

“You’re hogging all the fun, kid,” Kyungsoo straightened and smiled, punching Jongin’s shoulder not so lightly. “I should retire already if you’re making all these subtle jests of how old I am.”

“You’re not old. I just figured we need your eyes in full capacity so we could wrap this case up quickly.”

“You don’t need to watch out for me, kid. I’m still your hyung.”

“Of course, hyung.” Kyungsoo made a face that quickly dissipated when Henry burst into the room in a fit of giggles. His purple polka-dotted tie a little crooked with all the jumping he did with every ‘good morning’ that left his mouth. Kyungsoo shoved his cup into Jongin’s hand and grumbled for more coffee because he wasn’t awake enough for this. 

-  
It isn’t the first time that Jongin has gone out alone—he did enough of that in college, the struggles of exams and having different class schedules with some of his friends—but walking without someone beside him in a considerably populated area of District F; it’s kind of hard not to not have felt lonely.

It was also the first time that he had gone out alone for a case unsupervised, and he felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. It’s nice to know that Kyungsoo had let him leave on his own to investigate, but given that it was his first time going out unaccompanied by his superior, he felt somewhat distressed, not sure if he would be able to pull it off. He missed trudging alongside Kyungsoo—even though the older man wasn’t the type to talk unnecessarily, his presence was comforting enough.

The stationery shop was located squat in the middle of a few coffee shops and bakeries along the bend, a convenience store right next to it, and it wasn’t as elegant as Jongin had expected. He pulled out his phone just to check, and if the directions Taemin had given him were correct, he was actually in the right place. 

He pushed the door and entered with his head ducked politely, and the smell of old books and coffee hit him hard like a wave coming on to the shore during nightfall. It smelled both like a library and a little bit of his own home, and he doesn’t know what to think about that.

“Hello, is there anything I can do for you?” A small girl with hair dyed a light shade of orange stood behind the counter and greeted him with a wide smile. She was so small that Jongin wondered whether she was a child or if she just looked too young for her age, like Kyungsoo.

Jongin panicked, wracked his brain for words and ended up telling her he was just a customer. “I’d like to buy some.... Uhm, a Valentine’s card, please.”

The girl pointed to the opposite end of the store, where a rack of cards stood wedged between a rack of envelopes and another of paper. Jongin could see her try to stop herself from laughing. Of course, Jongin remembered, almost slapping his forehead in embarrassment, it was too early to ask for a Valentine’s card, of all the possible things.

He pretended to be poring through a collection of Valentine’s cards, even putting his finger to his chin as if in deep thought. In the end, he decided to take one that had a drawing of some fireflies trapped in a jar and said “You light up my world” –just for the sake of it, he told himself-- and another one that had a drawing of a pudding on a plate that said “is that a pudding in your pocket or are you just really excited to see me” just for laughs, noting that he might be able to use it on Taemin.

He decided to go check on the papers that they sold to see if any of them matched the stationery that Baekhyun had used, just as Taemin had said.

It didn’t take Jongin too long find it—lying harmlessly beside sheets of a mint green scented paper embossed with small patterns of roses, it looks kind of plain. He picked two up quickly and brought it over to the counter, laying it down for the items to be registered for check out.

He caught her laughing quietly behind her hands upon seeing the things he brought up for purchase, but then she smothered her smile before putting her hands back to her side. “Would that be all sir?”

“Yes,” Jongin said and looked down in embarrassment, putting his hands in his pockets. The girl gave a quick nod before punching in the prices to the cash register. Jongin decided to seize the opportunity before him and ask. “By the way, do you have anyone who frequents here and buys this type of paper?” he said, pointing at the paper she had just started to put in a paper bag. “My friend told me some type of myth about it. I just want to know if it’s true.”

“This one?” Jongin nodded an affirmative. She paused, eyebrows knitting together to give it much thought. “I haven’t really heard of a myth about it.”

“It’s not exactly that famous. It’s just… something that’s been going around in District D lately.” He gave a non-committing shrug. “I’m just curious, is all.”

“Well, I’m not really sure…”

“It’s okay,” Jongin assured her, glancing at the white name tag pinned to her shirt that he’s just noticed, “Yerim.”

The girl looked surprised at the mention of her name, lips parted and about to ask him how he found her name out, but then she thought better of it upon realizing that it might have been because of the name tag. “Well, uhm… There’s this old guy who usually comes here at least once a week, but he buys scented papers in bulk, not this one.” She bit her lip, deep in thought. “There’s also the ahjumma next door who comes by every once in a while to buy cards to go along with the flowers that she sends to her son’s family…”

Jongin waited patiently for her to continue, egging her on with a smile. “I don’t think there are a lot of regulars here, but there was this freakishly tall guy who used to come here back when my mom was still the one in charge of the store. I could never forget his face—he looked like a hawk that’s ready to eat you up, but he’s actually pretty nice.”

Jongin nodded. “Was he always alone?”

“Yes, he always came alone. But he didn’t seem particularly bothered by it.” Yerim pondered about it a bit. “Come to think of it, there aren’t many people who buy this particular paper. I don’t know why, though. It looks kinda nice.”

This piqued Jongin’s interest, describing Baekhyun’s features and asking her if someone like him bought the paper. But he received a confused no, saying that it’s usually high school and college girls who bought the paper, along with a few aunts and grandmothers. “There was a guy who bought it once, but he never came back here after that.” Jongin listened with great alertness, but realized that her descriptions fit neither Zitao nor Sehun.

“There was also one that looked like a writer. Or maybe he was a journalist?” Yerim added, but even though the list of people she was giving out was getting long, none of them matched any of the possible people that were involved in the case.

Jongin took note of everything all the same, taking the conversation in his stride. “Anyway, that first guy. He doesn’t come here anymore?”

“Something like that, yes. He was a regular customer here around… five years ago? I think he lived around here somewhere since I saw him walking around sometimes when I went to the market with my mom. He usually bought different varieties of paper–for a lover, I suppose—but then he just suddenly stopped coming altogether,” she shrugged. Jongin thought that was the end of it, but then again, it’s not exactly it. “And then he came back here a few times this year. He always bought the same type of paper; just like the one you’ve bought.”

“He probably looked sad.” The words slipped out of Jongin’s lips before he could stop himself, and Yerim looked astonished. “Wow, how did you know that?”

“Uhm,” he scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I guessed? If the myth is actually true, then that’s probably it.” He lied, using the first thing that he could think of as an excuse.

“What’s the myth about, though?” she already had the items packed, but she still hadn’t given them to Jongin yet. He didn’t have much complaint though; he did owe her a story after she gave him some clues that might help with the case.

Jongin decided to grab whatever cliché story that came from some of the old books that he had read and mix them up. That would make for some story, right? “That if you buy this type of paper, you’re going to lose something important to you.”

“Oh, is that it?” Yerim mumbled, eyes sparkling in interest at Jongin’s made-up story. “Then why are you buying it?”

“Like I said, I wanted to see for myself.” He answered, since that’s what he said when he had asked her in the first place, anyway.

“You should be careful though,” she said, as she finally handed Jongin the items he bought, wrapped neatly inside a paper bag. “Didn’t you know? Sometimes, some things are better left unknown.” The smile that she gave him made Jongin wonder if she knew more than her age let on.

 

“You won’t believe what I found out,” Jongin said, ripping open the paper bag in his hands and laying two sheets of paper down on Kyungsoo’s table. “Taemin was right. The paper used for the suicide note was bought there.”

Kyungsoo looked up from a piece of paper half-filled with words written in his own hand. Jongin looked restless, but not uncomfortable, and he’s assuming that it’s probably because he found out something that was worth their time. “Did you find anything about who could have bought the paper?” He examined the paper closely, and compared the details with what he could remember from the letter used for Baekhyun’s suicide note. 

“Kris’ old apartment is not too far from the shop, and based on the descriptions that the girl from the shop gave me, he was most likely the one who bought it. It seemed unlikely that Baekhyun or Zitao had ever been to that shop.” Kyungsoo nodded, not pressing the matter further. He trusted Jongin enough on that, and he was quite confident that even Jongin’s hunches on this are indisputable.

Kyungsoo thumbed over the pile of folders, and settled on the one near the middle and handed it over to Jongin. “The DNA results arrived a few minutes ago. Apparently, they forgot to include the blood analysis. Says right here that it wasn’t just Baekhyun’s blood found on the letter, but someone else’s too.”

Jongin flipped open the file, skimming the words with his eyes. True enough, the records showed that there was another person’s blood found on the letter. “How is that possible?”

“I’m guessing whoever did the job slipped up. If the forensic team’s theory is right and that the cuts were made to cover up the crime and make it look like suicide, maybe the killer accidentally cut himself in the process.”

“But they haven’t found whose it is yet?”

“They already checked Chanyeol’s and Jongdae’s, but it both came out as negative. They’re currently testing Kris’ and Yixing’s. Zitao’s and Sehun’s samples though… Since they’re not here, it’s hard to get samples of them.”

“I could go check in District F if you want.” Jongin volunteered.

“No, not right now. I need you to here.” Kyungsoo’s words might not have been filled with any malice or gross cheesiness, but it didn’t fail to make the tips of Jongin’s ears go red. He almost laughed at himself, because Kyungsoo said it in a business-like way, given that Jongin was supposed to be helping his mentor on the case, but he reacted a bit too differently. “Kris seems to be the one involved in this, so I’m sensing you won’t need to do that. But if it still isn’t a match with Kris, you’d have to check on F’s records. See if you can find any other records from Sehun or Zitao.”

 

The results from the forensic team arrived via mail. Kyungsoo stood by Jongin’s side and nodded at him to open it. Tension built over the course of a few seconds. Jongin’s hands shook in anticipation as he unfolded the letter. 

“Zhang Yixing… negative. Kris Wu… 98% match.”

 

Jongin had a hand on his gun in its holster. He used his other hand to knock on the door to Kris and Amber’s apartment. He checked behind him to see if backup was there; there were three officers outside the building and Kyungsoo was just a few steps behind him. He’d be okay if Kris tried to do anything; he trusted his team enough for that.

The door creaked open and what greeted him was Amber’s shocked face. “Hey, what’s going on?” Jongin’s hand on the gun loosened and he asked for Kris. “He’s inside. Kris, Detective Kim’s here to see you.” Amber opened the door fully and when he spotted Kris walking down towards them, he pulled out a handcuff from his back pocket.

Kris saw the silver metal and didn’t resist when Jongin cuffed him. It was like he knew something was coming. That Jongin was there to arrest him and lock him into a cell to rot for years and years, until his hair turned back to black and gray. It unnerved Jongin how nonchalant he was.

“What’s going on? Detective Kim!” Amber shouted, hand on Jongin’s arm, pulling him away from Kris. Kyungsoo walked up to them, having none of it. They didn’t want to have to drag Amber down to the police department in D for obstruction of justice.

"Kris Wu, you are under arrest for the murder of Byun Baekhyun. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law." 

Kris looked at Jongin and let himself be dragged away. Before going down the flight of stairs, Kris looked back at Amber.

“I was expecting to be arrested at gunpoint, actually,” Kris said over his shoulder. Amber’s eyes widened. “I don’t think they know. They might really have nothing on me.” He laughed.

“Shut up! You’re making it sound like you really have done something to Baekhyun! Think about mom, you idiot!” She looked on the verge of tears, and the hard-headed girl that Jongin saw during the interrogation melted in the background, covered up by her fragile side. 

“I fucked up badly.” He muttered to himself while Jongin ushered him in the car. He was looking down at his cuffed hands. “Badly.”

Jongin’s head was throbbing from the adrenaline of finally catching the culprit. Kris might be of use to Liyin’s case as well. Jongin rubbed his eyes; they felt dry despite his happiness. Kyungsoo wordlessly slid into the driver’s seat, and smiled at Jongin. “I’ll drive.”

 

 

“Okay, I’m going to skip all the unimportant questions and head straight to what’s important.” Jongin looked at Kris straight in the eye, but the latter didn’t look away, a wry smile formed on his face. “Why did you kill Byun Baekhyun?” Kyungsoo just let him ask away even though he was still the one who was supposed to lead the interrogation. Jongin knew what to do now, so he’d probably just end up asking some follow-up questions if Jongin missed something.

Kris stared at the mirror on the other side of the room opposite the door where he had come in, as if he could see who was on the other side if he kept staring hard enough. “I had a foolproof plan that time. So, I thought, why not?”

This took Jongin by surprise. Kris was directly admitting to committing the murder, when he had been adamantly denying that he had anything to do with it from his previous statements. Jongin tried to pry deeper, his voice going softer. “Tell me, what exactly happened then?”

Kris glanced at Kyungsoo first, observing him curiously before his eyes settled on Jongin. “I knocked on the door to Baekhyun’s apartment. And a few seconds later, Baekhyun’s head peeked through the door. He was shocked when he saw me. He asked what I was doing there. I mean, he wasn’t angry at me, just a bit surprised. I can’t imagine to what extent Chanyeol’s been exaggerating about our break up, but Baekhyun was calm like he didn’t break my fucking heart years ago.” 

“He let me in, and we talked. That’s it, we talked. We didn’t bring up whatever we had in the past. That time we were friends, we acted like friends who haven’t seen each other for a long time. I told him about Zitao, he was sympathetic, but I didn’t expect him to tell me he’s been going to see a psychiatrist for his insomnia, to the extent that he can’t sleep without taking his meds. I never even knew he developed something like that.”

“Chanyeol said something about it.” Kyungsoo had commented with a nod, as if he were merely a spectator in the interrogation.

“Fuck Chanyeol,” Kris slammed a hand over the table, the cold metal of the handcuff digging into his wrist. He glowered at the two of them, clearly pissed. “He doesn’t know shit. He doesn’t know Baekhyun’s been feeling uneasy, doesn’t know that Baekhyun’s dependent on medication to sleep. He just knows that Baekhyun’s drinking vitamins.”

“It sounds like you care, Kris.” Jongin locked gazes with him with a soft knowing smile on his face. The horror reflected in Kris’ widened eyes told him many things. “You still care. You still care about Baekhyun. So why would you kill him?”

“I—“ Kris panicked, stuttered. He looked at Jongin and then at Kyungsoo. There were tears building up in his eyes; he was struggling. “I care. I care so fucking much. So much. I called a few weeks before it happened, around midnight. He answered and asked who I was. Funny that he hasn’t changed his phone number in years. Funnier because I haven’t forgotten it. He didn’t remember me, of course. Must’ve deleted my number, so I dropped the call. I heard Chanyeol talking in the background.”

“Jealousy isn’t an attractive trait to have. Especially to the point of it driving you to kill someone you claim to love.” Kyungsoo sighed next to Jongin and continued. “Why didn’t you kill Chanyeol instead? Maybe Baekhyun would have crawled back to you asking for comfort.” Kyungsoo sniffed.

“Hyung!” Jongin shouted. “What are you saying?”

Kris stayed quiet. “Why didn’t I?” He muttered to himself.

“What’s your purpose for doing this, Kris? You made it look like Baekhyun killed himself, cut up his pretty arms. You shoved a handful of pills down his throat, got him naked and made him lie in a bathtub full of ice, and cracked open a window. Fuck, you even made him write a suicide letter to Chanyeol. You’re harboring a grudge against Chanyeol, aren’t you? And Baekhyun’s just a step to destroy Chanyeol’s mind.” Jongin doesn’t say anything as Kyungsoo just throws around his words at Kris like knives in a fight, staying glued to his seat. This wasn’t how he planned for things to go.

“I… pointed a gun at his head. I didn’t shove pills down his throat. He drank it by himself.” He was trying to defend himself from Kyungsoo’s accusations, but his words were convicting himself to a lifetime imprisonment. “He killed himself.”

“Sure, and you’re just an accessory to his suicide.” Sarcasm oozed out of Kyungsoo’s voice.  
Kris looked at Jongin, expecting him to speak in his defense. Sad for him that Jongin wasn’t his lawyer, wasn’t on his side. “Where’s the gun you used?”

“In Zitao’s apartment.”

“That’s impossible. We cleared that place long ago. The landlady gave us everything the couple left. And I had the place searched. There was nothing in there.”

“Also,” Jongin interrupted. “How are you involved in Huang Zitao and Oh Sehun’s disappearance?”

“I haven’t spoken to him after we broke up. I don’t give a fuck about Tao.” Kris glowered at them, as if to contest what his feelings were.

“That’s what you said with Baekhyun. But look what you did to him.” Kris’ expression turned into a scowl. His hands were balled into fists and Jongin was half-afraid he would jump up and strangle Kyungsoo and he wouldn’t be able to stop Kris from doing so. 

“That’s it, detectives,” he spat. “I killed Byun Baekhyun. I killed him. Pointed a gun at him and made him overdose on meds. That’s what you want to hear and that’s the truth, the simple truth.”

 

"We've been questioning him since eleven this morning. Why isn’t he fessing up for Liyin’s death yet?" Jongin had been pacing back and forth in the tech room for at least ten minutes. It was well past three in the afternoon, and the heat outside was crawling inside the air-conditioned room and up Jongin’s throbbing head.

"He’s stopped talking about Zitao. And he claims he doesn’t know who Liyin is or anyone or anything else for that matter. He’s pleading guilty for Baekhyun's staged suicide, Jongin." Kyungsoo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "He'll be rotting in prison for a long time."

"But he obviously had something to do with Huang Zitao and Oh Sehun's disappearance."

"One step at a time, Jongin-ah," came a sympathetic pat from Henry. The chief detective had been monitoring them in the tech room while they listened to Kris’ confession. He even brought in a tray of coffee for them, something very unlikely for a chief investigator. Jongin was not going to question it at that point. He took a cup and eyed it suspiciously.

“There’s tea if you don’t like coffee.” Henry pointed at an extra cup that was half-empty, and Jongin didn’t even have the heart to complain. It should relieve his headache. Keyword: should.

One of the guys in the tech room slid him a cursory glance after he slumped back into a chair. "Chief! There's a high probability of him being involved!"

"Jongin, stop whining."

"There's not much evidence besides Kris and Zitao being exes," Henry sighed. He was a chief inspector, he wasn't supposed to be condoning and ignoring criminal links, Jongin groaned to himself.

"Send that accusation into court and it'll be blown back to your face in a form of spit and maniacal laughter," said Kyungsoo, shooting him a warning look.

"Your sense of justice is strong, Jongin-ah. For now, you're under Kyungsoo-ah, and it's best to follow orders if you want to be on your own." Henry was definitely telling him to suck it up and swallow with his mouth closed. Although the warm smile he gave Jongin spoke a little differently. If he were good and on his own, he could take the case off of Kyungsoo's hands and finish it. But he liked working with Kyungsoo, which was alarmingly contradictory. 

"Due to protocol, I've contacted HQ and they've scheduled a transfer vehicle to pick him up in about two hours. 'Til then, he's all yours, okay?"

Jongin refused to meet him in the eye. He was being unprofessional, he knew, if Kyungsoo's wide eyed glare wasn't a clear indication. "Thanks for the tea."

It frustrated Jongin how Kyungsoo refused to interview Kris further, claiming it made his head ache too. He said he didn’t want to deal with asswipes like Kris, they got his confession and after that he was going to put his focus back on Liyin’s case.

“Hey hyung, can I recheck the apartment?” Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow at his question. “I just wanted to—” he paused and took a deep breath. “Kris said there was something that I needed to see in the apartment.”

“Why would you check it again when we’ve already checked it?” Kyungsoo asked, blinking at him slowly. Even if Kyungsoo didn’t look bothered by the question, Jongin still felt small, not wanting to say anything wrong that would displease his hyung. “Look, Jongin, no matter how many times you check, it’ll stay the same. Do you mean the team didn’t look at it thoroughly enough?” Kyungsoo’s tone was questioning, but not accusing.

“Oh...Uhm…” Jongin stuttered, at loss for words. Whenever he was with Kyungsoo, it was like he was always looking for the right words to say. “Nevermind. Okay. I was just…”

“Curious?” Kyungsoo finished for him. Jongin nodded with a small smile. “It’s going to kill you. Don’t do it.”

 

Jongin surveyed the area under the guise of a photography student looking for an apartment if anyone asked. That was his plan, and so far it was going well. He got out his university jacket and some jeans he found under the pile of clothes he brought to his apartment in D and mixed it altogether. It made him look like a decent looking student.

If Kyungsoo were there he would have almost certainly told him he looked ridiculous. However he wasn’t, and the thought of Kyungsoo not being there to keep pointing out his flaws and breathing down his neck was kind of liberating and again, a little lonely. Most of all, it felt like he was betraying Kyungsoo. His hyung had explicitly told him to drop it, and he sighed as he set off.

It did scare him when he asked around the neighboring doors, trying to find the owner of the building. District F was infamous for the numerous gangs in the area, and Jongin didn’t want to accidentally reveal himself. A scrawny lady pointedly looked at him and mumbled something about stupid children and pointed him to the farthest door, three doors from Huang Zitao’s previous apartment. 

“What do you need?” Grunted the lady who answered the door. She had her hair tied back and from the bright yellow rubber gloves on her hand, it was obvious Jongin had disturbed her as she was washing the dishes. “I don’t have all day.”

“I was wondering if you had a vacant apartment.” Her face brightened as far as Jongin could see, and he prepared his lies for whatever question she might ask him. She dropped her gloves and shouted something to her children in the house.

“Of course there is. We have three apartments open. Do you want me to show you all of them?” Not drawing any attention to himself, he nodded and followed behind her. She unlocked the first two apartments for him, and he feigned taking interest, taking a few shots with his camera for good measure.

“Here’s the last one,” she pushed through the door. “Police were asking about the previous tenants here just the other day. Funny I haven’t heard from ‘em in months.”

“The kitchen looks clean,” Jongin ran a finger over the sink, and dust was clearly clinging onto him. He crouched down and opened the cupboard below it, taking a picture.

“Are you a student?” The lady inquired. Jongin recalled her introducing herself as Mrs. Song somewhere during the trip to the second apartment. 

Thankfully, she was sitting on one of the chairs, lost in thought while she talked away. Jongin smiled at her before feeling the inside the cupboard. 

“I think the previous tenant was a student too. He had a boyfriend here, goes by the name Sehun, if I’m right. They’re awfully loud at night I had to keep banging on their door for them to shut up.” She laughed behind her calloused hands. Housewives had it tough, he thought. “It’s not good for my children to hear, even if we’re from this kind of district. It’s rough here, kid. Can you handle that?”

“Why would you think I couldn’t?” He feels the cold metal against the pad of his fingers and automatically regretted it. Shit, he’s not wearing any gloves. He pulled out a handkerchief as Mrs. Song kept blabbering on.

“You don’t move like you’re from around here. Hey, what are you doing there?” The ripping sound of tape caught her attention, and Jongin all but shoved the cloth covered gun into his knapsack. 

“Checking if there’s anything wrong with the sink. It seems functional.”

“Previous tenant didn’t seem the type to cook here, anyway.” She lifted her feet on one of the wooden chairs across her, staring at the dim fluorescent lights. “When we had to clean the place it was full of takeout boxes and unwashed laundry. You’re not like the previous tenant, are you? I hope not. I want someone to rent this place but at the same time I don’t want too much noise. Is that weird?” she laughed quietly that Jongin wouldn’t have known if he hadn’t glanced to look at her.

“It’s not weird, Mrs. Song,” he assured her even if he only caught the last part of what she said. The gun felt heavy in his knapsack, and he could just hear his heartbeat thumping loud in his ears. Kyungsoo would be livid if he found out what he was doing.

“The bedroom is big if you’re not bringing in anyone with you. Bathroom’s okay.” Jongin spent what felt like eternity trying to sound interested in what she had to say that wasn’t connected to Huang Zitao or his boyfriend. Or even Kris. But when the topic seemed like light years away from what he needed. With a little leap, he took matters into his own hands.

“Have you ever heard of a Kris Wu? He’s my cousin’s boyfriend and I heard he—“ Jongin didn’t need to finish before Mrs. Song exploded with stories about Kris. About him being a darling and taking out the trash for her when he was still staying in the apartment with Zitao. Apparently, Kris’ record with Mrs. Song was clean, nothing too jarring. Jongin even asked if she overheard the ex-couple arguing, and she firmly denied such a thing.

“I don’t know why they even broke up!” Mrs. Song laughed. She saw him out of the building, grinning ear to ear. “I hope you choose to stay here, kid. I’d like to see how those pictures of yours turn out. I was once a photography student in college, didn’t work out for me though. Best of luck to you.”

As much as his brain was telling him to run back to District D, Jongin didn’t. His gut told him that there were more clues to be found, so he ran down the alleyway, the only way to get to the apartment building because it was right behind a large club, infamous for more than twenty police interventions because of people getting stabbed and shot while inside.

Jongin took several pictures as he passed by, making sure to capture possible exits or entrances. On the other hand, the buildings were too close to each other-- even closer than Physics was supposed to allow-- that one could jump from the fourth floor balcony of the apartment building to the adjacent veranda of the club.

Jongin felt the guilt gnawing in his veins, reminding him that Kyungsoo had trusted him--trusted him so much, only to get betrayed in the end. He ignored it, leaving the thoughts for later. He still had a case to solve and thinking too much about something not remotely related to the case would only distract him far enough.

Jongin was surprised that it wasn’t Sooyoung who opened the door this time, and instead, a familiar face greeted him.

Seungwan was clearly surprised to see him too, the shock evident on her face. “Jongin?” she asked, voice partly in a whisper, poking her head out of the door and looking from left to right as if to check if someone was listening in on them. No one was, of course, and Jongin almost laughed seeing her a little too paranoid. She exited the door and closed it behind her, the hinges making a slight creaking sound. “What are you doing here?” She leaned against the door and had her arms crossed over her chest as if Jongin’s presence was unwanted.

“I need your help, of course.” Jongin gestured at the sign on the door to make his point, and Seungwan just rolled her eyes in defeat. “You win this time, Kim Jongin. Now what do you want?”

“I need to have this checked for fingerprints.” he handed her a Ziploc bag containing a gun, and another one with a letter.

“But isn’t that—”

“Yes,” Jongin didn’t let her finish, knowing fully well that she’s just going to nag him about it. “But I’ve gotten records of Huang Zitao and Oh Sehun from District F and I need to know if any of their prints match with these.” he handed her two folders, one tabbed with Huang Zitao’s name and the other Oh Sehun’s.

“Does your superior know of this?” Seungwan squinted up at him, and Jongin suddenly felt nervous.

He laughed dryly. “Of course. We’re on this case together, aren’t we?” Seungwan gave him one last judging look before taking it from his hands anyway. She turned around, not sparing a glance back at Jongin.

Jongin could sense that she somewhat had an idea that he was lying, but given that she just let it drop off easily, maybe he could get away with it.

But suddenly a sinking feeling made its way to Jongin’s stomach, and he remembered Kyungsoo telling him that he trusted Jongin. Now he didn’t know how to face his superior, guilt gnawing in his veins. He just hoped the detective doesn’t notice.

He left the building with his hands in his pockets, head bent low and too preoccupied with his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice the person in front of him until they were face-to-face, almost bumping into each other.

“Hyung I—” he stopped dead in his tracks, unable to look away. Kyungsoo looked so small wearing his huge black parka, the hood pulled over his head. Jongin was so used to seeing him in trench coats, and seeing Kyungsoo like this, he felt even guiltier, his mentor looking as if he needed protection. “I’m sorry.” he said, bending his head lower.

“What do you have to be sorry about?” Kyungsoo blinked up at him inquisitively, looking boggled, and Jongin lifted his head up a bit to see Kyungsoo’s face.

“I—uhm.” Jongin cleared his throat. Of course. He hadn’t been found out— Kyungsoo had seen him going out of the hospital, but he could just as easily say he only had to visit a friend. One more little lie wouldn’t hurt, right? “I almost bumped into you. I’m sorry I wasn’t looking at where I was walking.” Kyungsoo nodded a ‘you didn’t, it’s fine’, and Jongin wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved because Kyungsoo believed his excuse.

“What are you doing here, though? And why’d you change your clothes?” Jongin sucked in a breath, bracing himself for the lie that he had prepared, having had repeated it a billion times in his head when he imagined the scenario beforehand.

“I was visiting a friend here. He got admitted because of a sport injury. I didn’t feel comfortable visiting him in the clothes I wear to work so…” Jongin trailed off, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. He’s quite bothered by how quick and seamless the lie has left his lips, and even though he practiced it a hundred times in his head, it still didn’t feel right saying it out loud.

Kyungsoo laughed, lips forming into a heart shape and Jongin felt the weight in his chest get heavier. ”Well, you better get dressed again. We still have some work to do back in the department. Some final touches, and stuff. ” If only Kyungsoo knew, he probably wouldn’t have been laughing at all. He probably wouldn’t talk to Jongin anymore. “Let’s go.”

Jongin almost asked why Kyungsoo was there too, in the first place, but decides against it. “Sure, hyung.” He couldn’t handle anymore eye contact and lying.

 

The sound of some generic ringtone filled the room, and Kyungsoo stopped as he was suddenly broken out of his spiel of thoughts from the noise. He stood up from his seat and looked over to where the sound came from, his work already having been disrupted. He bent over and noticed Jongin’s phone lying on top of his own, forgotten by its owner.

Kyungsoo smiled to himself. Jongin was a prodigy—the best of his class, even—but he was absent-minded sometimes, having a habit of forgetting where he puts his things. He even misplaced his wallet once, when he was with Kyungsoo, only realizing the fact once he’s about to pay for his food, and Kyungsoo just laughed, and handed his money over to the cashier to pay for both of their meals despite Jongin’s protests. It had seemed more of a date then than a simple meal that they shared during that lunch break, but Kyungsoo wasn’t exactly keen on labels.

He almost just left the phone lying there, knowing that if the call was that important, the person on the other line would just call again—it’s not like Jongin was going to be gone for a long time, anyway, he just went to the break room to get some energy drink and make Kyungsoo some coffee—but then he sees the caller ID flashing on the screen and he thought twice about it, hand hovering over Jongin’s phone in his hesitation.

The phone seemed to blink up at him persistently, willing him to take the call. Making his mind up, he picked it up and slid his thumb over the screen, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was probably nothing anyway, right?

“Jongin? You there?” Seungwan’s tone was polite, but her manner of speaking was informal, and Kyungsoo didn’t notice his eyebrows knitting together at this. He didn’t know that Seungwan and Jongin were on familiar terms with each other to the point of speaking informally.

“No, this is Detective Do Kyungsoo,” he sounded too stiff—too formal—even in his own ears, and he cleared his throat to get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth left by the emotions overriding his otherwise calm way of dealing with other people. “He left his phone here.”

“Oh,” she remarked, seeming a little bit too disappointed over the fact that it wasn’t Jongin who answered her call. Kyungsoo could hear the sourness in her voice. It’s okay, he thought. The forensic department wasn’t exactly charmed by his ways, and he couldn’t say that he liked the way they mishandled a few cases back then. None of them are usually too keen on seeing each other, and maybe it was an established thing and it would be best if they stayed far apart from each other.

“I just need to tell him results from the gun he asked me to analyze.” Kyungsoo was taken aback from what she had just said. 

“Gun?” He didn’t remember telling Jongin to ask the forensic department to have a gun checked. Their case had been resolved. Unless…

“I’m his superior,” he decided to play along with it, wanting to know what Jongin had asked her to take a look on. “Don’t you think I ought to know what the results are?” Kyungsoo usually hated pulling the superiority card. But Seungwan was calling Jongin on his phone instead of the department’s landline. It was a fair enough situation to turn a blind eye on his morals.

“Very well,” Seungwan said. Kyungsoo felt her uneasiness with telling him the information, if the stiff assurance wasn’t enough of an indication. The tests revealed fingerprints belonging to Zitao and Yifan. We tested if the unidentified DNA matched to Tao or Sehun, and we found a match. The DNA belonged to Tao.

 _Oh. Oh, was this why… why he was… at the hospital that day?_ “Thank you. Is there anything else?”

“I—“ Seungwan sounded as if she was about to say something. Kyungsoo heard her take a deep breath, probably getting the will to be able to continue. “Nothing. Never mind. It’s nothing.”

Kyungsoo ended the call.

When Jongin came back a few more minutes later, carrying a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a bottle of energy drink in another, Kyungsoo pretended like there was nothing pricking at his gut when Jongin handed him his coffee, offering the younger male a tired smile in thanks.

 

Jongin wandered into the apartment and left his shoes and socks on the neat shoe rack by the side. Kyungsoo had left before him, saying he had other matters to attend to and that he would meet Jongin in his apartment for dinner.

It was fifteen minutes until nine that evening, and summer’s creeping in. Jongin wasn’t sure if he wanted to say goodbye to spring rain yet, or to the warm hugs he usually woke up in with Kyungsoo’s arms around him and vice versa. They had evolved to cuddle buddies after a few days of skirting around and figuring each other out.

Kyungsoo wasn’t home yet despite Jongin passing by a convenience store to buy some instant noodles. Kyungsoo would probably reprimand him for buying “cancer food”. Jongin sighed. He couldn’t rely on Kyungsoo’s kimchi spaghetti forever, although he wasn’t entirely opposed to it.

He sprawled himself on the couch and turned on the TV. The evening news was already done for the day, and honestly, Jongin wouldn’t care much at that point. He was tired from a month’s worth of adventure in District F. His conscience probably did permanent damage to his brain after forcefully ignoring Kyungsoo’s specific instruction. Pororo was uncharacteristically on and, he dropped the remote on the floor and closed his eyes.

Jongin’s thoughts drifted to that day’s event. District F officers were lax compared to the other districts, though document finding wasn’t as easy. He had to wait almost half a day to get the files he needed. Jongin vaguely wondered how they managed to get their cases done. It wasn’t his business, well at least not yet. He wasn’t assigned to F, but if HQ was adamant on getting him and Kyungsoo working in every district, his luck might run out. (He thought of dustier bookshelves and his head began to ache.)

“Jongin, you’re a full grown man. You shouldn’t be watching Pororo, and for the love of all things, put on some socks,” came in Kyungsoo’s voice. Jongin jumped up, and trailed after Kyungsoo into the kitchen, taking the bag of groceries from his hands and putting them on the counter. “Turn off the TV, kid. You’re not the one who’s paying my electricity bill.”

He couldn’t see Kyungsoo with his back to him, but Jongin imagined him rolling his eyes and grinning. He bounced back into the living room and shut the TV down, watching as Krong’s smiley green face fade into black.

“What is this plastic bag of noodles doing on my kitchen table?”

“That’s mine!”

“Obviously, I didn’t give anyone else my keycard and password. Unless the landlord was kind and gracious enough that he’d leave me monosodium glutamate overdosed products, which apparently, is not likely of him. What I asked was what is this thing doing in here? I thought I told you to stay away from these foods of death.”

Jongin grinned. “You care too much about my well-being, hyung.” He stuffed the plastic bag into his own knapsack. “Is this your declaration of love for me?”

“Didn’t I tell you before, Jongin. Don’t mix emotions into work.” Kyungsoo turned his back once again, grabbing canned tomato and preparing his famous kimchi spaghetti.

“We’re outside of work,” Jongin rested his chin on Kyungsoo’s shoulder and peered at the way he handled the can opener. “And you’re making kimchi spaghetti for dinner again.”

“I’d like to see you cook,” said Kyungsoo. Jongin knew he was lying but he’d like to give it a try. Jongin learned a thing or two from his old roommate who used to be a culinary student. They weren’t particularly close, but Jongin got the chance to watch him cook in the kitchen until one day the guy offered to teach him a few dishes. Omelets and mango salads weren’t really dinner worthy but he tried. Kyungsoo seemed to like it. He giggled when he saw the cheesy note he wrote with ketchup on Kyungsoo’s golden omelet. 

“This is great.”

“Great enough for you to stop cooking kimchi spaghetti every time I come over?” Jongin asked, teasingly. 

“I’ll think about it. I’m used to cooking food for single people. Breaking habit takes time.”

“Eating kimchi spaghetti everyday isn’t healthy. I could even say it would turn into one of those cancer foods you talk about.” Kyungsoo looked offended for a moment and slapped Jongin’s arm. Kyungsoo pulled the bowl from Jongin and stood up to put them in the sink.

“I’m not going to make you take that back. You’re not going to eat in here ever again, get out.” He didn’t mean it. The sides of Kyungsoo’s lips were quirked into a smile, and Jongin made a grab for the bowl. He apologized, profusely.

“You lack manners. Where are your socks? Is this how you treat your superior, huh, punk?”

Jongin did a mock salute and Kyungsoo punched him lightly before they both broke into fits of laughter. “Punk.”

 

Their arrangement was simple. Jongin certainly thought so as he pushed Kyungsoo up against the kitchen wall and kissed him. It was okay to do that, he’d gotten bolder now, more sure ever since he got the right footing. 

When they parted briefly, Kyungsoo looked up at him from under his bangs, and for a split second, Jongin froze. He almost didn’t look like the Kyungsoo Jongin knew. He was docile, and his eyes seemed softer and more fragile. “Is there something wrong?”

 _Yes_ , he almost said. “Nothing.”

“I’m a detective, and even if I wasn’t, you’re obviously uncomfortable. Is this because I let you lead?” Kyungsoo’s head tilted to the side in concern. “Or are you not too drunk to be kissing your senior? I thought we’ve established this.”

“It’s not that.” Jongin leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss on Kyungsoo’s lips. “Hyung, I just thought that what if HQ found out about… our arrangement? Wouldn’t it affect the validity of the reports you send them?”

Kyungsoo laughed, his deep voice resonating in the back of Jongin’s head. “That is why we keep this arrangement between us, and separate from work. I like you Jongin, you’re a great kid. Obedient like an eager puppy, and passionate about your work. You make me feel young again.”

“You’re only a few years older than me. Stop making it seem like you’re over forty and a sugar daddy.”

“I’m your not-really-boyfriend. Almost boyfriend.” Kyungsoo wrapped an arm around him and pulled him down for another kiss. “Outside of work. Detective Do and Do Kyungsoo are different people, Jongin-ah. Remember that.”

“And I like you all the same.” They kissed again and one thing lead to another. Clothes were strewn on the floor, Kyungsoo would complain about that tomorrow, but at that moment, Jongin could care less. 

 

In retrospect, Jongin didn’t know that it would be this hard to track down the backgrounds of the people involved in the case. The other investigators always made it sound easy, but actually trying it out firsthand, he felt drained.

He ran a hand down his face, eyes hurting too much from the radiation emitted by his laptop. It’s been hours since he’d started, the light that had filtered through the open window dim, when it was all bright when he had just begun all shadows long gone from when the sun had set. But he didn’t make a move to turn the lamp on even when it was only a single stretch out of his grasp, the movement taking too much of an effort for him to even shift in his position.

It’s quite uncomfortable, his position starting to cause him neck cramps, and he might need to shift for the nth time that day. He squinted at a detail in Baekhyun’s profile that he wasn’t quite able to read, the only source of light in the room being the one from his laptop screen, but at least he had managed to narrow down his options from the pool of probable suspects. Sort of.

He was already on his fifth bottle of energy drink for the night, but he still wasn’t done, and he was starting to feel the tiredness creeping into his bones. He closed his eyes for a moment, not wanting to actually destroy his eyesight in one sitting and tried his very best to stay awake while still going through the files, not wanting to resort to coffee, which he actually loathes. He wasn’t sure if he could call himself lucky that he had a day off to even have time to do a background check on all the victims and possible suspects, because all he had done so far is run around in circles.

That moment, with his eyes closed, he remembered the time when Kyungsoo had given him a puzzled look when he declined the offer for coffee, opting to go for soda instead when he had almost fell flat on his face when he had half-tumbled into the office, still laden with sleep. Kyungsoo had laughed when he said that coffee was like poison to his system, but kept drinking the steaming cup of liquid from his own cup, anyway.

He rubs at his eyes, still squeezed tightly shut. The connections don’t quite match up, the gun only leading to two probable suspects: Zitao, its original owner, and Kris, who took it with him. But none of them seemed to have any connection to Liyin at all; Zitao had met Kris after he broke up with Baekhyun, who is Kris’ only link to Jongdae and the only probable reason why he could have gotten to know Liyin. After going through so many records of Zitao from when he was still staying in his family’s house in China, up until he left his hometown to pursue a college education in South Korea, there was not a single occurrence from where Jongin could see how they could possibly know each other.

And then something in Jongin clicked. He flipped to the last pages of his notebook and started to draw. Jongdae, he wrote, and Liyin, he encircled the former’s name and made two new lines connecting to it. Baekhyun and Chanyeol. Baekhyun and Chanyeol to Kris. Kris to Zitao and Sehun, with a small question mark on both their names. He went back to Liyin’s name and wrote Coffee Couple. 

Jongin froze, reached out for the lamp and stared intensely at the piece of paper.

Liyin’s and Baekhyun’s deaths weren’t connected to Kris Wu completely, because there was a single focal point of all of this: Kim Jongdae. Sure, Baekhyun had been admittedly killed by Kris, who was directly involved with them, having had been both their lover from the past, but in some way, Zhang Liyin’s death was connected to this, Jongin was sure.

Jongin is quick to open his eyes again and go back to Kris’ past records, checking if he had any chance of encountering Liyin. The words were swimming in his eyes, and even though they made sense, he still couldn’t find the connection at all: Baekhyun and Kris had broken up when they were all still in college, and even though the odds were high that Jongdae hung out around them during that time, it was impossible that Kris could have known Liyin, since Jongdae had known her after college, when he was working a shift at the convenience store as his first job.

Following the timeline that Chanyeol, Kris and Amber had provided them, Jongin couldn’t see any reason why he would have possibly killed Liyin, seeing as it was already Chanyeol that Baekhyun was with when Liyin came around. It was Baekhyun who probably owed Kris, so he made a mental note to ask Jongdae how well he knew Kris to see if records would actually match up.

Jongin scratched his head in frustration. Kris was the most probable suspect for Liyin’s case as well, but at the same time, he wasn’t. He was expecting that digging deeper would help him resolve the case, but somehow, it felt like he was just making things harder on himself.

He couldn’t bring it upon himself to ignore the doubt creeping up on him that maybe Zitao and Sehun’s disappearance had been staged too because of Baekhyun. Detective Choi, who so often ran around the mafia circles confirmed with him that the couple had only bought drugs and not dealt with them, steering away from the rings of drug lords unlike what Jongin had initially thought. This ruled out the involvement of drug-related organizations in Zitao and Sehun’s death, all the more pressing the issue on Kris.

Was that the case with Liyin’s too, then? Did Kris want her out of the picture for some reason that was related to one of his past relations? It seem unlikely.

He licked his lips, feeling parched already even when it was only moments ago when he had his energy drink. He decided to switch tabs, making sure that his IP address still remained hidden as he checked on Kim Junmyeon’s profile.

His record was clean, of course—too clean, if you ask him—the perfect embodiment of a model student who always got straight A’s ,led the school’s student body and had a bright future ahead of him. His high school records displayed what every parent would want in their child’s transcripts, and his college transcripts were even better.

There was a class photo of Junmyeon’s included in the files, and Jongin tried to open that up, checking to see if he had missed anything.

Liyin was there, looking beautiful in her black toga amidst others donning the same colored ones. Jongin was aware that Junmyeon and Liyin had been schoolmates—friends, even—but seeing Junmyeon’s arm hooked over her shoulder with a big smile on their faces, it seemed like they were really actually close. 

Jongin looked through every other face in passing, but something seemed to reel him back, and he looked again at the photo, eyes settling over the person standing on the other side of Junmyeon, black fringe covering his whole forehead.

It looked a lot like Kyungsoo, except in this photo, he was smiling.

Jongin couldn’t quite believe his eyes, clicking on the photo to enlarge it in size. It was unmistakably Kyungsoo, eyes not wide orbs like they usually are, framed in inquisitiveness, but instead they looked like half-moons, topped over a heart-shaped smile. Junmyeon’s other arm was slung over his shoulder, but he didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable; pressed up close beside Junmyeon, even.

He isn’t sure what to think of it, but his emotions are already acting up, a great rush of both jealousy and betrayal washing over him. He shouldn’t really be feeling this way, since Kyungsoo had already pulled on the boyfriend label, but he still felt bitter.

And then the thought settled on him: how much did he really know about Kyungsoo?

It was true that Kyungsoo trusted him a lot—sometimes too much, he thinks, remembering the day when Kyungsoo first told him how much he trusted him, but then he ended up betraying that trust—but he wouldn’t deny that as much as he knew Kyungsoo’s quirks and habits, he didn’t know much about Kyungsoo’s past.

“It’s not like I’m prying or anything,” He convinced himself when he found himself opening another tab and starting to search for tidbits of Kyungsoo’s profile. “I’m just doing background check. That’s still part of the job, right?”

“You’re doing a background check on your boyfriend,” a voice in his head retorted, and it sounded a lot like Kyungsoo. “Your mentor. Shouldn’t you just ask him if you’re curious about anything? It’s his past, anyway.”

Jongin bit his lip. It didn’t feel right to be using his privileges as a detective to do a background check on his boyfriend just because he was curious, but he keyed in Kyungsoo’s name anyway, scrolling through the details and trying not to miss anything at all. 

There was Kyungsoo’s yearbook photo right beside a picture of him wearing his signature black trench coat, and in both photos, he looked like he hadn’t aged a bit, polite smile lifting up his face at the right angles. There was the very same photo that he had seen in Junmyeon’s profile redirected from another tab, and he couldn’t say that the confirmation of the fact did him any good.

He decided to dig deeper than that, sliding the scroll bar down to Kyungsoo’s high school record. He looked fairly young in those photos, looking more like a middle-schooler than a graduating senior in high school. Jongin marveled at them all the same, not used to seeing Kyungsoo’s hair cut too short for his own good that his forehead showed. It was only when he actually checked the high school’s name that he belatedly realize that Kyungsoo went to a different high school than Junmyeon. But nonetheless, it seemed familiar.

He went back through the other tabs, checking where he first found the name, when he landed on the name of the high school on Baekhyun’s profile. District B National High School, Class D.It was the same, save for the classes they belonged in.

Jongin cocked his head to the side. Kyungsoo had never mentioned knowing Baekhyun beforehand, and neither Chanyeol nor Kris seemed to have recognized him either.

“Maybe because they belonged to different classes?” He mused. It was quite possible: the standard population of a national high school in the districts was fairly high, and Kyungsoo didn’t seem to be the type to mingle around people.

He checked Kris and Chanyeol’s profiles too, just to make sure, and the three of them were all in Class B. Jongin looked confused, however, when he came across Jongdae’s profile and saw that he also belonged in the same high school, but was in Class A.

Jongin remembered Chanyeol briefly mentioning in one of the interrogations that he had known Jongdae since high school but didn’t actually become friends with the latter until college, when Baekhyun had introduced them to each other.

He wanted to get rid of such an unwanted feeling, but suddenly finding out about all of this had put a seed of suspicion in him. It wasn’t right to pry into other people’s past if they don’t want you to or unless it’s really needed, let alone your boyfriend’s, and he had told himself that he was just skimming through Kyungsoo’s profile for the sake of the case and his own peace of mind, but somehow, now, he’s even more confused.

He didn’t find anything leading to what Kyungsoo’s motives could have been in case he were involved in this—he was connected to almost everyone in the case, sure, but he had known them from two different points of his life. The thought alone of Kyungsoo being the person who planned all of this was ridiculous, too farfetched to even be considered as a hypothesis.

Kyungsoo’s family had gone bankrupt after a financial struggle when their restaurant business failed and they had couldn’t to pay their debts. His parents passed away afterwards and left him an orphan struggling to get himself through the last year of his high school and his college years. None of his relatives had taken him in, already having problems on their own, but in the end, he succeeded and graduated at the top of his class.

Sure, Kyungsoo had a rough past, but Jongin instantly ruled him out of the equation, not being able to link the connections and see how he could have done the crime.

He doesn’t have anything to do with this, he convinced himself, despite the traitorous churning of his gut. It was all just coincidence.

He closed his laptop and tried to drift off for the night, feeling weary to the bone even when he hadn’t accomplished anything but instead made himself even more confused in the end.

 

Jongin walked into the room with Henry’s somber face greeting him. Their usually happy go lucky chief sighed at the sight of him and Jongin wondered what he could have done wrong this time. Insubordination. He thought, and the coffee mug in both hands suddenly felt too heavy and with shaking hands he walked towards his table.

“What’s wrong with Chief?” he asked Kyungsoo, voice lowering into a whisper as he handed his mentor the coffee he had requested.

“Kris Wu got killed in a prison brawl a few days after transfer. He didn’t even get to rot in prison for his crime.” Kyungsoo said around his mug, and even though his words were partly muffled, Jongin heard it all the same.

Jongin’s mouth gaped. “What?”

“Last time I checked, you weren’t deaf. Let’s just get a move on and focus on Liyin’s case.” Kyungsoo groaned. Jongin’s hand was still raised in front of him, and Kyungsoo filled it with a stack of folders. “Report.” He said, as if it would stop Jongin from whining or prying.

Without waiting for a response, Kyungsoo turned his back on him and went into Henry’s office. 

Jongin remembered how he so easily dismissed the thought of the probable suspects even when he had done a background check on them and reviewed the files multiple times. Something didn’t settle quite right, and he could feel it now, looming over his head.

 

 

“Please, don’t do this.” His mother had begged, knuckles turning white from where she was holding on tightly to the jacket over the man’s suit. “We’d pay you back, I promise. Just please don’t do this.”

“You’re not the first person who asked us that, and my answer isn’t going to change.” The man gruffly removed her hands from his suit, flinging it away from himself. “You’re only going to run away from us. And we can’t have that, can we?”

“But Mr. Kim, we’d never do that!” his father had protested, desperately grabbing on to the man’s sleeve. “We promise we’ll pay you back! No matter how many jobs I would need to take on, even if we die from working, please, don’t take our house away!”

“Then why don’t you die already?” the man said, pushing his father away with an irritated tone. The fall didn’t seem to have hurt his father that much, but the shock is all over his face, and silence befell them all; none of them had the guts to talk back. “Look, even if I can have your word for it, I don’t care. That won’t give me my money back.”

“But sir, we still have a child! He’s about to graduate in high school, can’t you please just let him graduate first?” his mother pleaded, even resorting to kneeling down in front of the man.

“Please sir, we don’t have anywhere else to go.” His father knelt down too, throwing his pride away for this last request. He is at lost for words; his father was a man who was proud of what he has but not boastful—a man filled with integrity and followed moral principles, while his mother, though soft-hearted, was one of the most strong-willed people he had ever met. “Just give us a year, please. Just please let our son graduate first.”

“This is not a negotiation. I want my money now, so if you can’t pay me back, then stop wasting my time.” he sneered at them through slightly-yellowed teeth, the look on his face akin to when someone is inspecting dirt. “Now stay out of our way if you don’t want to get hurt.”

“Sir, please!” his father had tried running after Mr. Kim, but the man’s bodyguards prevented him from getting any nearer. “You have a son too, right? Sir, you need to understand. What if this happened to you?”

“I don’t need to understand anything. My son is different from yours, and there is no way we’re ever going to be in the same situation.” Mr. Kim made a shooing motion at them.

He ran to his father’s side and tugged at his arm to make him stop struggling. The two men there were pinning him by the sides loosened their grip a bit at this, casting wary glances at one another. “Dad, stop it. He’s not going to listen no matter how many times you ask him to.”

“You should listen to your son. Maybe he can talk some sense into you.” Mr. Kim slid into the passenger seat of his sleek black car, not sparing them another glance back. His two bodyguards followed suit, both sitting in front of the car, and all that was left behind were the three people who didn’t have anywhere else to go.

He hadn’t realized that he was crying until his father had hugged him, wiping his tears away with his thumbs. “I’m sorry, son. If only I had been a better father…” he wanted to correct his father, and tell him that no matter how many lifetimes he would live, he’d always want to come back to them and have them as his parents, but he choked on his words, putting his arms around his father to hug him back.

That time, he had no idea that his father would commit suicide days later, but he held on tight, watching his tears soak through the fabric of his father’s collared shirt. He would always bring that warmth with him, no matter how cold his heart had started to become.

His mother joined in the hug, giving them a comforting smile. “We’re going to get through this, dear.” She had said, patting his tear-stained cheeks. “I promise.” And he had believed her words so much, to the point that he almost had been disillusioned that everything will go back to the way that it had been.

But she hadn’t been around after that, their difficulties in life taking its toll on her.

And maybe it was better this way, he thought. Because she’d never have to suffer again.

 

 

“I heard that you took someone’s house away again. Why can’t you just give them some more time? They’re not going to run away from you; your money’s more than enough for this family, anyway.” It’s not the first time that Jongdae has talked back to his father right in his face, so the man didn’t look the least bit shocked when he turned to Jongdae.

“What do you know about money, anyway? And stop changing the topic of the conversation. This isn’t why I called you here.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest and leant back on his chair, tapping a foot on the marbled floor of his office. The air freshener stuck in front of the air-conditioner had a minty scent, and it clung to Jongdae’s nose, making him uncomfortable, the formality of his father’s office a sickening image to him. “I heard from your adviser that you plan on taking up music in college.”

“And? What do you know about what I want, anyway?” Jongdae retorted, and his father had raised his fist, and only stopped himself the last minute before completely losing his composure, his fist only a few centimeters away from Jongdae’s.

“Watch your tongue, kid. You’re still under my roof.” He said as he fixed the lapels of his jacket. “I don’t care what you want or what you don’t want. What I want is that you go “Dad,” Jongdae said, his voice louder this time to completely catchl his father’s attention, but his tone was softer, having lost the edge of poison that was there previously. “This is what I want to do. This is what I want for myself. I’ve been in the top ten of my class ever since I started going to and graduate with a business degree. Go be a doctor or an engineer if you don’t want that, for all I care, but don’t go taking up some bullshit excuse of a course that isn’t hiring.”

school because that was what you wanted. I even joined all the academic clubs and forewent signing up for the school choir because of you. Can’t you at least let me do what I want for once?”

“Okay, then. I’m easy to talk to,” his father nodded, standing up from his seat and taking a few steps nearer. “Go and get your degree on music. But I won’t pay for tuition fee.”

“I’m okay with that.” Jongdae shrugged, even though he still had no idea how he was going to balance finishing high school while working to afford college.

“So you’re probably okay with leaving my house and fending for yourself, right?” his father had sneered at him, and he could only answer back with an outraged “Dad!”

“Don’t worry; I’m going to cut you a bit of slack. I know I’m not a good person, but I can be a good father when I want to,” he said, raising an eyebrow to see if Jongdae would contest to that. Jongdae wanted to retort, lash out at him angrily, but he didn’t think he should do that. His father wasn’t the nicest, but he was a good provider for the family and his mother still loved him. He just wished that his father would return to the person he was before all of this; before they started becoming rich enough to buy off buildings that could reach the skies and houses with promising backyards and exquisite furniture but didn’t feel like a home at all. But that seemed to be too farfetched to happen now. “I’m going to let you graduate high school before you’d need to move out. I’m going to pay for everything, and I’m still going to give you allowance. But after that, I don’t want to see your face again.”

“If that’s what you want.” Jongdae mumbled under his breath. This seemed like too easy of a decision to his father, and part of him wanted to see his father take back his ultimatum and not let him leave, but he didn’t think that he was going to get anything akin to affection now. “I’ll take my leave then. Sir.”

Jongdae turned his back to leave, not hearing the deep sigh from his father and the murmured, “I only wanted the best for you.”

 

 

Jongin stirred awake, feeling cold from the chilly morning air that had seeped through the blinds. He could hear Kyungsoo shuffling in the bathroom, probably brushing his teeth. When he looked over to the bedside table for his phone, something shiny caught his eye. It was a silver band. Out of curiosity, he held it in between his fingers, and it seemed like it was just the perfect size for his pinky.

“I see you found it, you snoopy brat.” Kyungsoo appeared out of the shadows as if he was a character from one of those horror films that just suddenly melded into the room, a smirk appearing on his face when Jongin gave a surprised yelp.

“Snoopy? It was on the table, in plain sight. Is this for me?”

“Yeah, sure.” Jongin brightened and slipped the ring on his finger. It was a perfect fit, but it was weird how it fit his pinky finger and not his ring finger instead, like how it was supposed to be.

“Thank you, hyung. But you should have gotten a bigger couple ring.”

“It’s not a couple ring. It’s one of a kind and… valuable.” Kyungsoo kneeled on the bed and leaned down to kiss him. “And very important, just like you.” He smelled like peppermint and aftershave, something Jongin could finally associate to home. A home that was no longer flighty, that he no longer needed to chase after because Kyungsoo finally came to terms with his feelings and let himself love Jongin and allowed Jongin to love him too. “Snoopy brat.”

 

On his way to the apartment, Jongin stopped by a nearby convenience store to eat some noodles and buy a can of soda. Kyungsoo had told him to go home first, since he was still finishing up some reports to be submitted to HQ, Jongin’s evaluation included in his pile. Of course Jongin had relented, not wanting to leave Kyungsoo alone, but the older man whisked him off after a quick kiss, an assuring “I’m going to be fine” whispered in his ear.

He didn’t remember the ring worn around his pinkie finger until that moment, when the light suddenly hit it, reflecting off and catching his attention.

Jongin was nothing but surprised, really, when Kyungsoo had told him that it was for him. He felt like he was in high school again, being confessed to for the first time and getting giddy that he almost couldn’t contain it.

He took the ring off his finger, marveling at its beauty. A thin line was embossed in the middle of the ring, formed into a pattern of a feather, and Jongin couldn’t help but think that he had seen it before, the pattern giving him a striking sense of familiarity.

He turned the ring around in his fingers, observing it more carefully. There was something engraved inside, and he peered at it, only to be greeted by unfamiliar symbols.

It wasn’t exactly difficult to find what the Chinese characters meant, what with the technology available nowadays, and in a matter of minutes, he found the answer. He gaped at it, remembering Jongdae’s words back in the morgue the last time he saw Liyin.

_My angel._

 

 

Kyungsoo just couldn’t fall asleep, a nagging feeling tugging at him, tucked away at the back of his mind.

Getting up from the bed with as slight movements as possible, he made his way to the kitchen with careful footsteps, cautious of making any noise.

He rubbed at his eyes, unease started to creep in his bones.

Jongin knew; that he was positive about. And this time, he would really have to kill the guy, if he didn’t want anyone else knowing his secrets. He took out one of the knives from its place on the counter—a carving knife that he had always kept sharp. It would be easy, really, he thought.

One cut to the carotid, a swipe to the chest. A stab in the chest to finish things off? The lungs would be easier though.

The ways he could kill came to him methodically, as if he was only planning on what he would be having for dinner that night. A sudden thought occurred to him. He looked up as if someone had called him even when he hadn’t even heard anyone at all. 

His conscience, a tiny little voice back in the deepest recesses of his mind, screamed at him. He didn’t hear it though, an oversized, why do you need to choose when the answer is so obvious? flashing like a LED board in neon lights in the back of his eyelids.

It was a kill or be killed situation. Kyungsoo bit his bottom lip as he looked down at the knife in his hand, as if the object would be able to reanimate and tell him how to solve his internal turmoil. He shifted his weight on both feet, reassessing his choices. 

He needed a plan, a plan that won’t fuck up this time. A plan that wouldn’t make him a suspect, something fast and precise and silent just like Zitao and Sehun’s death had been–no one would go looking for them in the quicksand. Although, it was accurate to say he wasn’t directly involved in their deaths, but he was the one who directed Kris’ actions to rid the poor man of the two.

He groaned internally. Kris was a good puppet, a willing puppet. He asked Kyungsoo to help get Tao out of prison while they were still dating. He pulled a “you owe me one” on the guy and at first he didn’t have any use for him, until he finally figured out that he was related to Byun Baekhyun. 

He waited patiently to find the perfect place for Kris in the plan, and to his surprise, the man came to him again asking for another favor. Apparently, Tao had left the poor guy to ran away with a younger man. Kris was livid and stupid, in his opinion and without batting an eye, he shoved instructions in Kris’ face and steered him right.

The favors he asked from Kris were simpler. First, he asked for Kris to find someone efficient to kill Jongdae while he was at work. That didn’t turn out well, with Jongdae miraculously killing the guy instead. The second one was to frame Baekhyun’s suicide and not get caught.

It was excessive, Kyungsoo could admit. But after failing the plan to kill Jongdae, he had turned into ruining Jongdae’s life. Baekhyun played a role and that was Jongdae’s best friend during college, and to top it off he was Kris’ ex boyfriend. So, why the hell not? It wasn’t like Kris would refuse him. He had a recorded take of Kris calling him and telling him he killed Zitao and Sehun. Kyungsoo could send it anonymously to the police and Kris would be rotting in prison for years.

Funnily enough, Kris was in prison for a short while for Baekhyun’s death, and Kyungsoo had pulled some strings to get him silenced. Since he’s in prison, he had nothing to lose, and if he chose, if he used his stupid head, he could have dragged Kyungsoo down. He wasn’t going to risk it.

He scratched his chin and felt stubble beginning to grow. He looked bedraggled recently, the great effect of a new influx of cases handed to them. His thoughts go back to Jongin.

Kyungsoo sighed at his reflection. Despite everything, Jongin didn’t seem to have anything against him for him to want to kill the guy. He began to think Jongin was blissfully unaware. If he already knew, then why—why didn’t he grab the opportunity to kill Kyungsoo? Or rat him out to the other detectives, or maybe even HQ?

Kyungsoo had thought then that he was doing it because he recognized Kyungsoo’s authority over him and respected him, but after all the confessions and the nights spent together, he didn’t know what to think.

Kyungsoo froze. Why was he concerned about Jongin in the first place? He was indifferent towards killing other people; when he did he start steering Jongin clear out his way so as not to harm him? He didn’t matter anymore. He had gotten what was important: revenge.

He easily made decisions for problems like these back then—either kill them or control them. That way no else one would ever know anything. Jongin had been a pawn that moved a little too freely for his taste, but everything was over. Why was he doubting his own principles just because of that one guy who only happened to be his mentee?

“Hyung! Can you come here for a bit?” A familiar voice called out for him from the bedroom, and Kyungsoo flinched in surprise and he almost dropped the knife. His grip on the knife tightened, his muscles tense as if ready to uncoil and spring into action, but then he relaxed. It could be dealt with.

The light from the fluorescent bulb was reflected in the flat side of the knife facing him, and he found himself looking at a slightly distorted image of himself being reflected back from the knife. His reflection conjured an unsightly expression, features contorting to form creases and frowns that spoke of ghastly and morbid tales. He would have to decide sooner or later.

“Yeah,” he answered, knife still in hand as he turned.

It had been a while since Kyungsoo got blood on his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by: (books) Sherlock Holmes, The Book of the Dead, and Blue Monday  
> (movies) Poker Night, Now You See Me  
> title taken from the song No Tears for the Dead by Michelle Lee


End file.
